JESSICA  PEIXOTTO 
1 864 -194 1 


OBSERVATIONS 
OF  JAY 

(A  Dog) 

AND   OTHER   STORIES 


BY 


MORGAN    SHEPARD 


D.   P.  ELDER  &  MORGAN   SHEPARD 

SAN    FRANCISCO 

1900 


COPYRIGHT   igoo 

BY 
MORGAN  SHEPARD 


The  Murdock  Press 


!S 

k 

"-  ;"';"  -'"'        •'"'  TS 

$s: 

S538-0"' 


AFFECTIONATELY    DEDICATED    TO 
MARY    FITCH   WATKINS 

A    CHILD 

WHO    UNDERSTANDS    THIS    SIMPLE 

TRIBUTE    OF    LOVE 

AND    WHO    SENDS    BACK    TO    ME 

ACROSS    THE    GREAT    LAND 

A    PRICELESS   TREASURE 

IN    RETURN 


-3531 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I.  PAGK 

OBSERVATIONS  OF  '  '}AY  ' '  UPON  THE  FIVE  GREAT  WAGS    1 1 

CHAPTER   II. 
WORDS  UPON  THE  SMELL  OF  MYSTERY  -     23 

CHAPTER  III. 
THE  REVOLT  OF  BARBARA     -------37 

CHAPTER  IV. 
THE  STORY  OF  A  HORSE  AND  BARBARA     -     -     -     49 

CHAPTER  V. 
WHAT  BETSY  DID       ---------     59 

CHAPTER    VI. 
A  DREAM,   PERHAPS    ---------71 

CHAPTER    VII. 
SOME  WORDS  ABOUT  COLORS,  SMELLS,  AND  MOONLIGHT  8  5 

CHAPTER   VIII. 
ANTIPATHY,  CONTEMPT,  A  GOAT,  AND  SOME  OTHERS  103 

CHAPTER    IX. 
THE  HEART  OF  A  BOY    -     -     -     -     -     -     -     -125 


430153 


OBSERVATIONS   OF  "JAY'    UPON 
THE    FIVE    GREAT  WAGS. 


THE    BEST     FRIENDS    OF    CHIL 
DREN   AND   MEN. 


CHAPTER  I.  OBSERVATIONS  OF 
"JAY"  UPON  THE  FIVE  GREAT 
WAGS. 

ARE  the  closest  friends  of  chil 
dren  and  men.  Children  come 
first  for  a  dog's  love,  because  of 
their  understanding,  and  because 
dogs  and  children  can  but  poorly 
tell  of  all  that  is  in  their  hearts.  Dogs  have 
no  words,  and  children  but  few. 

The  Boy  has  asked  me  to  tell  of  some 
adventure  in  my  life.  But  when  I  come  to 
put  the  words  down,  I  seem  to  think  of  no 
adventure  which  I  care  to  speak  of;  for  I 
am  full  of  more  serious  matters.  Besides,  to 
tell  of  any  of  my  great  doings  would  take 
too  much  time.  I  do  not  want  you  to  think 
ii 


of  the  Boy. 


that  my  life  has  been  without  strange  and 

The  Will  of  ,    f  ,    ,   .  ,       .  f      ..   • 

_  wonderful  doings  ;    that  is  not  so — for  it  is 

the  Dog. 

crowded  every  day  with  many  things  worth 
telling.  But  I  feel  more  like  first  letting 
you  know  of  a  dog's  nature — his  thoughts, 
pleasures,  and  feelings.  I  will  do  this ;  and 
some  day  I  will  speak  of  my  "Great  Fight 
with  Uglymug,"  or  my  "  Long  Watch  at  the 
Door,"  or  "How  I  Saved  Boy,"  or  "The 
Terrible  Cat- Killing."  (I  was  blood  wild 
when  I  got  into  the  last;  so  my  good  side 
shames  me  now.)  These  are  a  few  of  many 
adventures  I  have  had.  If  the  children  really 
want  me  to,  I  will  tell  of  any  one,  or  all, 
some  time. 

To-day  I  hear  the  wind  blowing  from  the 
dear  south  into  the  tree-tops,  the  flies  are 
making  a  singing  sound,  the  sun  is  hot  in 
spots  on  the  ground,  and  many  heavy  smells 
come  to  my  nose,  each  one  with  tempting 


colors.  I  sniff  and  sniff,  and  wish  to  shake 
myself  hard  and  sharp,  to  drop  the  laziness 
off  me,  and  go  to  seek  adventures,  not  to 
tell  of  them.  To-day  is  a  great  tail-wagging 
time;  so  I  must  tell  of  the  pleasure  I  have  in 
it,  and  it  may  be  when  I  get  started  on  that 
subject  I  will  speak  of  nothing  else.  I  have 
a  splendid  tail  for  wagging  purposes,  and  it  is 
a  constant  joy  and  satisfaction  to  me. 

First  in  the  order  of  good  wagging  is  the 
"Wag  of  deep  love"  for  your  Boy  or  Man 
friend.  Of  course,  it  is  full  of  differences, 
according  to  the  time  or  place,  or  Dog,  but 
in  the  main  it  is  the  same,  and  Love  is  Love 
wherever  the  place  be.  So  the  wag  is  slow 
and  sure  from  side  to  side  and  half-way  in 
the  air,  never  tight  or  rigid  ;  it  goes  with  ears 
neither  back  nor  forward  too  far,  and  the  eye- 
light  is  soft  and  appealing. 

Second  comes  the  "Great  joy  wag."    This 


is  begun  with  yaps,  barks,  whines  away  down 
e  r<  in  the  throat,  then  jumps,  runs,  and  licking 
of  the  hands,  with  violent  wags  every  which 
way,  all  at  once  and  well  mixed  up  together. 
When  you  get  a  little  settled  down  and  sure 
the  Master  is  there,  well,  happy,  and  loving 
you,  you  trot  behind  and  smell  his  heel  once 
in  a  while,  or  lick  his  hand  to  make  him  look 
at  you.  Then  the  last  of  the  "joy  wag"  is  to 
twist  your  body  into  a  crook,  as  crooked  as 
possible,  and  wag  sidewise,  stiff,  and  with 
little  contented  jerks.  This  is  the  dearest 
wag  of  all ;  a  good  dog  loves  it  most,  though 
it  may  not  be  so  important  as  "deep  love." 
It  is  felt  all  over  the  body  and  into  the  heart 
(dogs  with  bad  dispositions  cannot  wag  this 
way). 

Third  is  the  "Wag  of  alertness,"  and  is 
used  on  many  different  occasions,  but  always 
when  the  mind  is  awake,  keen,  and  watchful. 


This  wag  is  somewhat  hard  to  describe ;  for 

Gathered 
it  is  purely  "dog,     and  needs  understanding    mind  and 

more  than  words  to  show  what  it  means  ;  but    watchfulness. 

you  can  easily  tell  it,  and  know  right  well 

what  it  is.     The  wag  may  be  seen  when  I  am 

at  a  rat-hole,  and  is  wagged  to  show  that  I 

know  you  are  there  and  that  I  love  you,  but 

I  do  not  want  to  be  disturbed,  or  when  I  want 

to  get  after  Jerry  the  cat,  but  don't  dare,  or 

when  I  see  a  stranger  dog,  that  may  be  either 

friend  or  foe.     To  do  this  wag  properly  you 

must  draw  your  tail  up  as  high  as  possible, 

keeping  it  very   stiff,   then   wag  short   and 

sharp,  being  careful  to  have  no  more  on  one 

side  than  the  other ;  for  if  it  should  become 

one-sided,  you  would  lose  grip  of  yourself, 

and   appear   undignified  as  well.     The  ears 

should  be  thrust  sharply  forward  and  never 

budged  until  things  are  settled  or  stiffness  is 

no  longer  necessary. 

15 


Fourth — the    "Dream  wag."      This  one 
I  '11  tell  my 
Dream  some     may  not  seem  Ver7  important  m  the  way  of 

day.  general   wags,   nor  am    I   sure   it  should  be 

fourth  on  the  list,  but  it  is  to  me  very  strange 
and  interesting,  leaving  a  great  impression  on 
my  awakened  mind.  I  carry  a  misty  memory 
of  it  about  with  me  when  I  am  not  very  busy 
and  on  moonlight  nights.  There  may  be 
natural  reasons  for  the  "dream  wag," — as, 
for  instance,  a  fly  on  the  ear  where  the  hair  is 
thin,  too  much  heat  from  the  fire,  or  a  flea 
in  the  middle  of  your  back, —  but  /  think  it 
is  caused  by  going  into  another  world,  where 
wags  change  their  methods  and  dogs  speak 
with  men's  words.  The  Boy  says  my  "dream 
wag"  is  queer  and  makes  him  afraid,  and  that 
I  give  hitchy  jerks  at  the  very  end  of  my  tail 
seven  times,  my  jaws  jerk  and  twitch,  and  my 
whine  sounds  far  off  in  a  very  distant  dog.  I 
sometimes  remember  my  dream ;  it  is  mixed 
16 


— pain,  pleasure,  and  strangeness.     I  could 

The  joys 
tell  you  a  dog-dream  if  I  had  time.  of  a  secret 

Fifth — Next  comes  the  "  Scratch  wag."  scratch. 
I  might  have  left  this  one  out,  for  some 
people  will  think  it  is  not  important ;  but  it 
has  always  seemed  to  me  that  to  get  a  pleasure 
without  hurting  any  one  else  or  injuring 
yourself  was  perfectly  right,  and  scratching 
your  back  hurts  no  one  and  gives  you  great 
happiness.  The  wag  that  goes  along  with  this 
is  almost  any  wag  you  care  to  make  use  of, 
varied  in  vigor  according  to  the  goodness  or 
poorness  of  the  scratching.  I  find  that  under 
the  barn  one  can  enjoy  a  fine  continuous 
scratch  in  peace  and  quiet,  if  only  the  floor  is 
neither  too  high  nor  too  low  and  there  are  no 
green-eyed  cats  looking  on.  Then,  there  is 
a  pleasant  mystery  and  uncertainty  about  it 
all,  and  considerable  satisfaction  in  knowing 
that  no  one  sees  how  much  fun  you  are 


having,  or  thinks  you  are  a  weak  character 
A  sight  that  ... 

brines  blood     because   your  wags    are   so   mixed   up   with 

fury.  whines,  growls,  and  throaty  barks. 

All  that  I  have  told  you  has  been  of  the 
happy  side  of  a  dog's  life, — that  is,  so  far  as 
his  tail  is  concerned, — and  I  am  loath  to  say 
anything  of  the  sixth  wag,  which  expresses  all 
sorrow.  But  it  may  be  that  my  words  will 
sink  deep  into  the  heart  of  some  boy, — so 
deep  that  he  will  never  stand  still  unrebelling, 
when  he  sees  a  "fear  wag."  A  dog's  joy  is 
blotted  out  by  cruelty  and  abuse,  and  he 
is  never  the  same  again,  having  once  been 
"cowed."  Think  of  a  tail  wagging  when 
he  crawls  along  on  his  belly,  twisting  and 
squirming  in  trembling  terror,  with  eyes  full 
of  fear  and  prayer !  What  would  a  smile 
upon  your  lips  be,  if  terror  and  panic  filled 
your  heart,  and  your  body  drew  together  to 
receive  a  blow  ?  When  I  see  that  sight  I  get 
18 


the  blood  fury ',  and  fear  that  some  day  I  shall 

do  terrible  things  to  the  coward  of  cowards,    jmportance 

the  low  Man,  who  uses  his  mind  and  strength    and  pleasure 

to  flood  a  dumb  creature's  life  with  fear,  and    of  wa§ging- 

makes  a  tail  to  wag  in  cringing  terror,  when 

it  should  only  be  wagged  for  love,  joy,  and 

keen  thinking. 

I  have  now  told  you  of  the  five  great 
wagging*,  and  the  one  wag  of  fear,  which 
should  not  be  counted,  but  still  is  sometimes 
seen.  I  have  told  of  nothing  else  but  wags, 
because  wagging  is  of  first  importance.  Of 
course,  the  tail  is  used  in  different  ways  by 
different  dogs  (but  look  out  for  the  dog  that 
never  wags  his  tail,  or  has  no  tail).  Wags 
and  smiles  make  the  heart  kind.  Barks, 
growls,  yelps,  and  whines  express  a  great 
deal,  but  I  would  give  them  all  up  rather  than 
the  "five  waggings." 

If  the  children  want  to  know  more  about  a 


dog's  life,  why  he  howls  at  the  moon,  growls 

Farewell  until   •      «  •       i  u  u 

in  his  sleep,  loves  to  chase  cats,  hates  some 
another  day! 

people,  loves  children — or  anything  of  dogs' 
knowledge  about  dogs — let  them  ask  me. 
Now  the  sun  is  soft  and  warm,  the  flies  sing 
with  their  wings,  streaks  of  blue  smell  come 
out  of  the  woods  and  over  the  fields.  I  shall 
go  to  see  what  I  may  find.  Wag  joyfully! 
good-bye  !  Wag  joyfully  !  good-bye  ! 


WORDS    UPON    THE    SMELL    OF 
MYSTERY. 


SEEKING     FOUND     NO    KNOWL 
EDGE,   BUT   THE    RETURNING- 
LOVE. 


CHAPTER  II.    WORDS  UPON  THE 
SMELL  OF   MYSTERY. 

MEN  fully  know  that  a  Dog  is 
a  Dog  for  certain  reasons,  as  is  a    Words  telling 
Man  a  Man.      One  Man  is  of    the  Virtucs< 
one  kind,  and  another  is  no  less 
a    Man   because   his   mind  and 
way  of  thinking  differ  from  another  ;  so  I  tell 
you  these  thoughts  out  of  my  heart  and  in  my 
oxwn  way.     Another  kind  of  Dog  would  tell 
them  in  a  fashion  of  his  own  and  from  his 
point  of  view. 

Few  Dogs  have  gone  along  the  road  of 
Life's  Days  with  their  wits  so  keen  to  notice 
things  and  their  hearts  so  open  to  true  judg 
ment  as  I  ;  still,  be  it  not  thought  by  those 
who  may  read  these  words  that  a  high  opinion 


Knowledge, 
observation, 
and  silent 
learning. 


of  my  own  power  to  see  has  blinded  me  to 
what  is  plainly  so.  Most  surely  I  have  the 
virtues  of  an  honest,  healthy,  wet-nosed  Dog 
(and  no  great  credit  do  I  take  to  myself,  for 
I  find  happiness  in  my  virtue,  and  happiness  I 
seek  first).  It  must  be  known  that,  first  of 
all,  I  have  a  full  knowledge  of  the  five  great 
wags,  and  a  skill  and  understanding  to  use 
them  at  times  and  places  most  fitting.  I 
never  let  confusion  or  fear  into  my  mind  to 
mix  and  weaken  my  actions  or  judgment.  I 
look  well  to  the  position  of  my  tail  at  all 
times  ;  for  a  weak  tail  unfits  the  body  and 
mind  of  a  Dog,  and  will  bring  confusion  and 
foolishness  into  his  life.  I  hold  fast  to 
alertness  and  dignity  ;  so  during  a  Day  I  see 
from  the  ends  of  my  eyes  and  learn,  when  it 
is  thought  I  go  without  aim,  or  seek  only 
new  smells. 

I  find  great  satisfaction  in  all  this ;    for  I 
24 


gather  wisdom  undisturbed  and  unknown  to 

The  first 
others,     .bach  new  thing  settled  in  my  mind     of  the  jaws 

adds  to  my  power  and  importance.  Never 
a  day  passes  that  I  do  not  find  use  for  the 
learning  of  the  day  before.  I  have  settled 
in  my  mind  some  laws  for  a  Dog's  behavior 
in  life,  which,  if  observed,  will  bring  peace 
and  happiness  to  him,  and  win  more  of  Man's 
consideration  and  respect.  Here  follow  the 
laws : — 

First — Be  kindly  toward  all,  giving  love 
to  but  few  and  full  love  to  One.  Do  not 
love  often ;  for  much  loving  lessens  the 
fullness  of  love  and  puts  treachery  into  your 
heart. 

Second — Greet  all  friends  with  the  eye- 
light  of  gentleness  and  smiles  and  a  "greet 
ing  wag,"  if  you  feel  inclined,  and  so  make 
the  day  sunny-warm. 

Third — Do  not  bear  about  with  you  the 


rigid  tail  of  suspicion,  or  the  back  bristles 

More  laws 

10  learn         upward,    thereby    opening    many    hearts    to 
hatred  and  misunderstanding. 

Fourth — Make  friends — for  the  more 
you  have  the  greater  will  be  your  power  and 
the  happier  your  days  ;  but  do  not  slobber  in 
the  making  of  them,  for  a  wet  mouth  accom 
plishes  nothing. 

Fifth — When  in  a  strange  country  be  ever 
alert,  using  your  gathered  wisdom  in  all 
snooping ;  but  do  not  go  into  dark  holes, 
where  often  lurk  green-eyed  cats  or  other 
things  to  hurt  you. 

Sixth — Go  about  your  business  with  mod 
esty  and  dignity,  but  with  an  erect  tail  and  a 
sure  purpose  of  doing  it  well. 

Seventh — Keep  your  nose  out  of  the  track 
of  a  row.  Never  sniff  to  find  a  fight,  but  pass 
around  the  place.  Nothing  is  ever  gained  in 
a  looked-for  row. 

26 


Eighth — Fight  but  seldom  in  all  of  a  life- 

,      ,      .    ,     r      ,  e  A  Man's 

time,  but  when  you  do,  let  it  be  for  defense    and  a  £)og 

or  justice.     Do  it  well,  saving  your  fore-legs    way. 
and  your  honor. 

Ninth — Eat  enough  to  keep  you  well,  and 
get  some  extra  good  things  if  you  can,  but 
carefully  avoid  gorging. 

Tenth — Seize  all  the  joy  you  can  that  robs 
no  other  ;  for  happiness  is  the  south  wind  of 
the  Heart's  health. 

Now,  an  observance  of  these  laws  takes 
nothing  from  a  Dog's  freedom  ;  neither  does 
it  make  him  a  prig  nor  a  hypocrite.  I  have 
noted  that  when  a  man  tells  a  tale  of  adven 
ture  or  speaks  of  the  wisdom  he  has  gathered, 
he  makes  many  words  of  it — he  has  not  the 
habit  of  mixing  together  his  opinions  and 
thoughts  as  they  come  into  his  mind.  That 
is  not  a  Dog's  way ;  for  everything  with  us 
is  short,  according  to  Man's  time.  We  have 
27 


Sympathy, 
simplicity, 
and 
Mystery. 


not  the  length  of  days  of  Man.  The^fullness 
of  life  comes  soon,  and  the  going  down  to 
the  end  of  it  is  with  us  ere  we  know  it.  So 
between  the  rising  of  each  sun  come  many 
emotions — joy,  love,  hatred, seeking,  longing, 
and  adventure, — and  a  Day  sees  the  Heart 
crowded  with  all  that  may  be  the  full  experi 
ence  of  a  Man's  long  year.  So  it  is  that  we 
count  not  time  by  days  or  years — we  count 
only  a  life. 

Therefore,  to  those  who  read  these  words 
I  say,  Look  for  no  continued  or  connected 
tale ;  neither  look  for  opinions  of  a  kind 
following  one  upon  the  other.  As  a  Dog, 
I  shall  speak  of  the  things  that  come  to  my 
mind.  Mixed  up  they  will  be,  as  Man  looks 
at  things,  but  true  as  a  Dog  acts  and  thinks. 
So  let  your  mind  down  to  the  mind  of  a  Dog, 
and  bear  on  you  the  covering  of  sympathy 
and  simplicity. 

28 


I  will  tell  of  the  "Smell  of  Mystery."     It 
comes  to  a  Dog  all  unexpected  and  at  all     w\shes  'ancj 
Never  can  I  summon  it 


times  and  places. 
to  me  by  a  will  of  my  own,  or  find  it  by 
sniffing,  neither  can  I  fully  tell  of  it  here ; 
for  only  fragments  of  an  understanding  may 
I  take  hold  of,  and  that  little  gives  me  no 
power  to  show  reasons  or  causes. 

The  "Smell  of  Mystery"  came  to  me  this 
Summer  Day.  I  was  sitting  on  the  porch 
with  my  hind -quarters  upon  one  step  and 
my  fore-legs  on  a  lower  one.  The  Boy,  my 
loved  friend,  was  with  me.  His  mind  was 
in  the  bushes,  or  the  skies,  maybe  ;  for  he 
spoke  no  words,  and  wishes  unshaped  were  in 
his  eyes.  Silence  was  around  us,  save  for  the 
buzzing  of  bugs  and  the  scraping  of  leaves. 
My  heart  was  full  of  love  and  yearning  for 
the  Boy,  but  my  tail  was  in  no  way  moved  to 
wagging,  save  when  I  was  spoken  to,  and 
29 


the  coming 
of  Mystery. 


then  the  wag  was  short  and  done  from  a  sense 
The  first  i  i-        •  .1 

following  of    of  obllgatlon-      Mystery  came  in  the  gentle 

Mystery.  wind  and  smote  my  wet  nose,  which  set  it  to 
twitching  sidewise.  I  sniffed,  and  licked  to 
get  its  taste  and  color,  but  I  knew  no  name 
or  shape  to  give  it.  My  eyes  were  wistful 
and  uncertain  ;  a  whine  came  out  of  me  away 
down  in  my  chest,  sharp  and  through  a  tight 
throat.  A  great  desire  to  seek — I  knew  not 
what — came  into  me.  With  unwagging  tail 
I  left  the  Boy  (mayhap  he  solved  his  mystery). 
When  I  have  the  "Smell  of  Mystery"  in 
my  nose,  I  go  right  along  the  track  of  it  with 
a  perfect  certainty  of  soon  finding  the  source 
of  it  all,  and  with  a  bearing  of  perfect  self- 
confidence  ;  never  is  my  trot  uncertain  or  halt 
ing.  To-day  I  went  over  the  field  and  through 
the  orchard  along  the  hedge  of  green.  The 
places  were  familiar  and  often-sought  spots, 
but  with  mystery  upon  me,  they  seem  small 

30 


and  undesired,  and   lacking  in  any  interest. 

The  Enemy 
It  was  with  none  of  my  known  places.     An     D     and  a 

Enemy  Dog  ran  for  me  with  a  rush  of  fierce-  Cat. 
ness,  but  I  turned  upon  him  with  tail  and 
ears  of  warning  alertness.  I  wagged  short 
and  sharp,  keeping  my  legs  very  stiff  the 
while,  and  with  mincing  step  went  round  him. 
I  did  not  even  growl,  but  the  Enemy  Dog 
saw  something  in  me  which  made  him  turn 
about  and  walk  stiff-legged  away,  but  rather 
fast  and  with  bristles  up.  He  looked  back 
now  and  again  to  see  if  I  would  run,  but  I 
did  not;  so  he  pushed  through  the  hedge 
and  then  began  fast  barks  of  defiance.  (I 
have  but  a  poor  opinion  of  that  dog.)  So 
I  loosened  up  when  I  was  out  of  sight 
and  went  about  my  Mystery  business.  I 
followed  the  broken  and  twisting  line  of 
smell,  and  in  the  very  middle  of  an  open, 
treeless  field  I  saw  a  Cat,  sneaking  low- 

31 


bellied    along,   and    had  it  been   any   other 
The  fading  of       .  ,  _ 

M  ster  time  I  surely  would  have  round  pleasure  in 

giving  the  Cat  a  run.  The  track  led  me 
along  a  dusty  road,  over  a  stone  fence,  and 
far  into  the  hills.  Times  there  were  when 
I  could  almost  name  the  color  and  shape  of 
what  I  sought.  Often  it  was  close  to  under 
standing,  but  I  lost  it  again,  and  I  whined  for 
the  strangeness  of  it  and  my  foolish  search 
without  result.  So,  trotting  and  trotting  and 
ever  thinking  I  had  come  to  the  End,  brought 
me  to  a  stony  spot  in  an  arid  field.  Here 
the  smell  was  strong  and  whirled  around  me. 
I  ran  about,  whining,  growling,  with  many 
short  yaps,  but  nothing  I  found,  and  the  smell 
faded  out.  I  caught  no  track  of  it  again. 
The  "Smell  of  Mystery"  was  gone,  and  with 
it  went  my  strange  longing  to  know  of  it ; 
and  I  even  wondered  why  I  was  tired,  hot, 
and  panting.  So  I  went  homeward  by  the 


way  of  the  meadow  and  brook,  dusty,  and  with 

Happiness  ; 
a  sneaky  look  about  me.     I  waded  chest-deep     Home  and 

into  the   brook,  and  lapped  to  quench  my     the  Boy. 

thirst,  jaw  downwards  into  the  water, —  this 

way  of  drinking  is  most  good.     The  Day 

may   come   when    I    shall    know   the   cause 

of  Mystery,  but  now  I  have  nigh  forgotten 

the  smell. 

I  went  back  to  the  Boy  and  found  joy  in 
his  face,  which  came  to  him  while  I  was  away 
seeking.  He  saw  great  Love  in  my  eyes,  and 
fell  to  petting  and  making  much  of  me.  I 
wagged  the  steady  wag  of  contentment  and 
understanding.  I  was  HOME.  The  air 
was  heavy  with  sweetness  and  rest.  The 
Boy  made  an  end  of  his  caresses,  and  I  lay 
flat  on  my  side  upon  the  cool,  green  sod, 
and  slept. 


33 


THE    REVOLT    OF    BARBARA. 


QUEEN    OF    THE    WORLD. 


CHAPTER  III.     THE   REVOLT  OF 
BARBARA. 

IS  the  name  they  gave  me. 
Because  I  have  that  name  I  am 
just  what  I  am.  It  is  sad  and  full 
of  thought;  it  has  many  "a's." 
If  you  will  say  slowly  Bar-ba-ra 
I  am  sure  that  you  will  see  that  what  I  say  is 
true.  I  would  have  been  quite  different  if  my 
name  did  not  sound  so  heavy  and  slow.  Betsy 
is  what  she  is  because  of  her  name.  She  is 
gay,  bright,  and  full  of  easily  started  laughter. 
Betsy — "Bet"  brings  smiles,  and  "sy,"  quick 
and  merry  words.  Altogether  she  is  gay,  but 
not  in  any  way  silly,  only  her  mind  turns  to 
bright  colors,  and  happiness  she  sees  over 
everything. 

37 


Names 

make  us,  said 
Barbara. 


Everybody  lives  to  be  like  the  name  they 
a  heart  have.  I  know  a  girl  whose  name  is  Lulie 
Sniffin.  She  is  just  like  her  name,  prim, 
snippy,  and  obstinate  ;  she  gets  angry  easily, 
and  makes  sounds  between  her  teeth  that 
she  would  not  make  if  she  was  not  "  Lulie 
Sniffin." 

Things,  too,  almost  always  look  like 
their  names.  I  could  tell  you  of  many  that 
sound  like  the  things  they  are.  Every 
body  thinks  I  am  a  sulky  child.  I  wish 
I  knew  how  to  tell  them  in  words  that  I  am 
not,  but  that  I  am  always  busy  in  my  mind. 
I  do  not  know  how  to  speak.  When  people 
think  hard  of  me  they  make  me  cold  and  full 
of  fear  and  I  cry  inside. 

I  only  know  one  person  who  sees  what  I 

am,  and  He  never  says  a  word  about  it ;  but 

when  I  walk  with  his  arm  around  me,  He  is 

sending  kind  thoughts  to  me.     He  does  not 

38 


know  what  the  thoughts  would  be  in  words  ; 

neither  do  I,  but  hours  go  by  sweetly  when  I      ^   w    ^ 

am  playing  with  him.    We  do  not  talk  much, 

but  still  when  we  go  home,  I  am  warm  all 

over  and  happy,  and  I  know  He  is  too.  Once 

He  said  to  me,  "  I  can  go  out  in  the  world 

and  work  some  more,  dear.     You  help  me 

to  work.     I  can  do  many  things,  for  I  am 

strong."     He  means  that  we  are  friends,  and 

understands. 

Here  are  the  things  that  I  see  every  day 
which  make  me  seem  sulky,  and  I  wish  I 
could  be  Queen  of  the  World,  with  a  right 
to  rule  things  as  I  wish.  Because  horses 
cannot  speak  and  ask  cruel  men  not  to  treat 
them  the  way  they  do.  Because  dogs'  eyes 
are  so  soft  and  beautiful,  and  follow  their 
masters  around,  and  cannot  speak  or  explain 
when  they  try  so  hard  to.  Because  men  put 
animals  in  cages  to  look  at — poor  things  that 

39 


have  always  had  lots  of  room  and  have  been 
North,  South,     «..'•.... 
East  and  West    ^mgs  m  their  own   country.      Because   so 

many  children  are  unhappy,  and  no  one  helps 
them  to  get  long  days  of  joy.  Because  every 
thing  is  so  rough  and  hard  and  cruel. 

I  sometimes  cry  when  I  think  I  can't  help 
it  one  bit — but  I  have  found  a  way  to  be 
Queen  of  the  World,  with  great  power ;  so 
now  I  make  things  right  for  everything.  I 
turn  my  face  to  the  South  when  I  am  sad  or 
in  doubt,  and  think  with  my  heart  out  of 
me,  far  away  into  the  blue.  I  forget  the 
things  around  me,  and  something  comes  to 
me  that  makes  me  strong  and  wonderful ;  so 
I  can  be  a  Queen  with  great  power.  The 
North  is  like  a  cold  hard  hand,  the  East 
never  listens  to  me,  the  West  is  full  of  dark 
ness  and  fear,  but  the  South  is  like  Sun,  and 
a  little  wind  blowing,  and  always  gives  and 
gives.  I  see  a  smile  there  that  wraps  me  up 
40 


with   happiness,  and  a  white   hand   touches 

Y  The  stony  hill 

me  as  a  rairy  wand  that  makes  my  wishes    anj  the  tire(i 

all  come  true.  horse. 

So  the  other  day  I  took  everything  the 
South  would  give,  and  I  became  a  Queen. 
This  is  what  happened  :  For  days  and  days  I 
had  been  very  unhappy.  I  had  seen  so  many 
sad  things,  but  what  made  me  do  what  I  shall 
tell  you  of  was  this — A  man  driving  a  horse 
with  a  great  load  up  a  steep  hill.  The  man 
lashed  the  horse  with  his  whip.  The  horse 
kept  slipping  down  on  his  knees  (which  he 
could  not  rub  when  he  fell  on  the  sharp 
stones  of  the  street).  I  cried  out  with  anger 
and  pain  and  rubbed  my  knees,  for  it  hurt  me. 
It  seemed  to  me  that  everything  in  the  world 
was  wrong ;  so  I  became  Queen.  I  went 
to  our  barn  and  got  on  the  back  of  Frank 
the  horse,  and  told  him  to  take  me  out  into 
the  big  world.  Frank  took  me  to  where  the 


man  was  driving  his  poor  horse  up  the  stony 

*A.  W3V 

hill,  and  I  made  him  let  his  horse  go.    Then 
for  the  dear 

South  Land.      I  commanded  him  to  sit  on  his  wagon  and 
rub  his  own  knees  till  the  sun  went  down. 

We  started  along  the  broad  road  which  led 
to  the  beautiful  South  Land.  We  stopped 
at  every  house  we  came  to  on  the  way,  and 
I  made  the  horses,  dogs,  and  all  the  children 
that  wanted  to  come  with  us.  The  cats  and 
chickens  I  did  n't  invite,  but  some  came, 
anyway.  And  so  we  went  on  and  on.  Out 
of  every  place  by  the  way  came  more  horses, 
dogs,  and  children.  The  children  rode  on 
the  horses'  backs  if  they  wanted  to,  and  the 
dogs  and  cats  and  chickens  ran  along  with 
the  whole  Horse  Army.  I  was  at  the  head 
of  the  great  line.  The  horses  kicked  up  their 
heels  and  whisked  their  tails,  and  neighed 
and  neighed,  and  the  dogs  barked,  and  the 
cats  yowled,  and  the  chickens  made  all  sorts 
42 


of  noises.    The  mixture  of  sounds  was  very 

.     .  ,      -  .  They  come  to 

strange,  and    it   was   wonderful   to  see   the    aiandofgentie 

army  getting  to  be  more  and  more  the  farther  law. 
we  went.  We  sang  songs  and  stopped  by  the 
roadside  to  pick  flowers.  All  the  children  had 
crowns  on  their  heads,  the  horses  and  dogs 
had  strings  of  ivy  and  daisies  about  their 
necks.  The  chickens  and  cats  would  not 
have  anything  around  them.  I  wish  they 
had ;  it  would  have  looked  so  funny. 

On  we  went  until  we  came  to  a  country 
where  there  were  no  houses,  only  green  fields, 
and  rivers  and  forests,  with  the  tree-limbs  high 
up,  so  there  was  no  danger  of  bumping  our 
heads.  When  we  came  to  this  country  we 
found  a  great  hill,  and  Frank  and  I  went  on 
top  of  it,  and  all  the  children,  and  horses,  and 
dogs,  and  cats,  and  chickens,  gathered  around. 
I  called  out  to  them  and  said :  "  I  am  going 
to  tell  you  all  something,  and  I  shall  make 

43 


some    Laws.      What    I    say    you    must    all 

remember.     This  is  the  South  Land  where 
the  Queen. 

we  are  free,  and  we  can  speak  what  is  in  our 
hearts,  and  not  be  afraid.  We  understand 
each  other,  and  every  one  knows  what  is  the 
right  for  every  one  else.  We  have  taken  a 
long  journey,  and  have  been  happy  all  the 
time.  Now,  the  country  that  we  left,  we  must 
go  back  to  soon.  We  will  tell  people  that  we 
shall  have  new  laws  for  horses  and  dogs. 
After,  this,  horses  shall  talk  all  they  want  to, 
and  say  when  their  masters  are  cruel,  and 
they  shall  combine  together  and  rebel.  Then 
people  will  learn  that  animals  have  rights  of 
their  own,  and  that  they  should  be  men's 
friends,  and  not  their  slaves.  So  now,  we 
will  all  go  back  to  our  homes." 

Then,  as  the  Sun  was  going  down  towards 
the  Earth,  our  whole  army  went  back  ;  every 
body  was  talking  and  singing  and  playing. 

44 


The  army  melted  away  little  by  little.     The 

'  So  all  ended 

horses  went  each  to  his  own  barn,  and  after 

that  had  no  halters  around  their  necks,  or 
reins  to  drive  them  with,  or  whips  to  beat 
them.  The  poor  horse  I  had  saved  found  a 
good  home  where  he  had  nothing  to  do.  Dogs 
became  the  great  friends  of  men ;  they  told 
each  other  their  troubles,  and  always  were  a 
great  comfort  to  each  other.  When  I  was 
Queen  that  day,  I  did  good  things  for  animals 
and  men ;  so  they  have  been  happier  ever 
since.  The  children  have  more  companions 
to  talk  to,  and  wonderful  times  when  they 
play. 


45 


THE    STORY    OF    A    HORSE    AND 
BARBARA. 


ADVENTURES  ONE  SPRING  DAY. 


CHAPTER  IV.     THE  STORY  OF  A 
HORSE   AND    BARBARA. 

NAME  is  Frank.    I  am  a  horse. 

I  have  had  seven  years  of  man's     The 

time,  but  eighty-four  as  we  count,     introduction 


which  is  by  the  times  of  a  new 
moon's  coming.  So  boys  and 
girls  will  see  that  I  am  old.  I  know  many 
things,  and  have  wonderful  wisdom.  If  men 
would  but  let  me,  I  could  show  how  wise  I 
am  ;  but  they  insist  upon  thinking  that  I  am 
foolish  and  cannot  think  for  myself.  That 
is  because,  from  the  beginning  of  days  of 
Horse-life,  men  did  not  understand  us,  and 
got  us  into  bad  habits.  They  put  bits  into 
our  mouths  ;  they  used  reins  to  steer  us  with, 
and  whips  to  drive  us  faster  and  faster  ;  so  we 

49 


of  Frank. 


become  stupid.    We  now  need  men  to  guide 
Thoughts  on 

US     and    tO    dnve    US'       Tne       beat    US    Wlth 


a  Spring  day. 

stinging  whips  upon  our  bare  backs  when  we 

don't  please  them.  In  the  beginning,  if  they 
had  only  talked  to  us  to  teach  us  the  way,  and 
told  us  things  to  do,  you  would  see  us  going 
around  like  dogs  everywhere  we  wanted  to. 
You  could  whistle  or  call,  and  we  would  come  ; 
you  could  put  us  to  a  wagon  and  say,  "  Go  to 
town  —  trot  —  gallop  !  "  and  we  would  do  it. 
Some  time  I  will  tell  you  of  all  this  matter  — 
but  now  I  have  an  adventure  to  relate. 

One  green,  sweet-smelling  day  I  stood 
under  a  tree,  thinking.  I  was  in  a  field  with 
a  fence  about  it.  I  had  eaten  a  good  deal,  for 
it  was  Spring  and  stuff  was  easy  to  get,  juicy 
and  full  of  different  good  tastes.  I  rested  in 
the  soft  shade,  thinking  of  many  things  I 
loved  and  of  none  I  hated.  A  little  brown 
bird  jumped  and  chirped  in  the  tree  above, 

5° 


the  wind  went  cool  and  smooth  among  the 

.      .  .      .  He  thinks  so, 

boughs,  and  the  singing  bugs  kept  singing.     tQOj  of  Mary> 

I  was  sleepy.  Barbara  came  to  me — she  is 
the  one  I  love  most  of  all  the  children ;  we 
have  secrets.  Her  gentle,  sad  ways  are  dear 
to  me  ;  the  words  she  speaks  go  deep  into  my 
heart  and  stay  there  like  budding  flowers, 
which  gayly  bloom  and  bring  memories  when 
she  is  away  of  sweetness  and  understanding. 
She  whispered  in  my  ear.  I  pretended  to  be 
asleep,  for  I  love  to  have  her  dear  little  arms 
around  my  neck  and  her  lips  close  to  my  ear. 
My  head  was  low  down,  so  she  could  reach. 
She  said  to  me :  "  I  am  a  fairy,  and  we  will 
do  things,  you  and  I."  As  she  spoke,  I  was 
filled  with  the  mind  of  the  child,  and  I  knew 
I  would  be  one  with  her.  Then  she  said : 
"Your  hoofs  shall  be  cat's  paws,  your  tail 
shall  be  like  Jay's,  the  dog.  You  shall  have 
a  long  mane  on  both  sides  of  your  neck,  soft 

51 


and  bright,  like  my  hair,  and  a  forelock  down 
to  your  very  nose,  and  it  shall  be  red,  white, 

sensations.  *  * 

and  black,  and  I  will  braid  it.  You  shall  mew 
like  a  cat,  bark  like  a  dog,  low  like  a  cow,  but 
in  every  other  way  you  shall  be  a  Horse." 

While  Barbara  was  saying  this,  it  all  hap 
pened,  and  I  felt  queer.  I  thought  I  would 
try  my  tail ;  so  I  did.  Then  I  knew  what  a 
wag  was  like,  but  I  could  not  help  won 
dering  how  I  should  manage  the  flies.  Then 
I  barked.  Thinking  I  heard  a  Dog,  I  went 
scratching  up  the  tree ;  then  I  knew  how  it 
felt  to  be  a  Cat.  But  I  seemed  too  big  to 
stay  up  there ;  so  I  jumped  down,  with  my 
legs  far  apart,  flump  on  the  ground. 

Now,  as  I  was  all  things  in  one,  I  thought 
I  'd  have  some  fun ;  so  I  yowled,  and  I 
growled,  and  barked,  and  lowed,  and  neighed, 
and  snorted,  all  in  turn,  to  see  how  it  would 
go.  The  first  thing  I  knew,  everybody 


was  there  about  me — The  Boy,  Betsy,  Joe, 

Surprise, 

Jay  the  dog,  Jerry   the   cat,  Dommick  the    suspicion)  and 

rooster,  and  the  Man.     Barbara  was  on  my    consternation. 

back.     She  made  my  long  mane  into  reins. 

Oh  !     but   were  n't    they    surprised  !       You 

should    have    seen    them    look !     Boy    said 

"Golly!"      Betsy   said   "Oh!"      Joe  said 

nothing,  but  looked  at  my  paws.    Jay  barked 

till  he  caught  sight  of  my  tail,  then  he  wagged 

his.      Jerry   said   "m-e-o-w"    and    swarmed 

up  the  tree  with   a   big   tail,  and  his  voice 

rumbled.     Dommick  drew  himself  up  with 

great  pride,  and  scratched  around  in  a  circle, 

with    his    left  wing    stiff  and    scraping    the 

ground.  Then  he  started  crowing ;  but  when 

he  got  "cocker"  crowed  he  became  scared, 

and  forgot  the  "doodle-do."     He  rushed  fast 

as  he  could  go  behind  the  barn,  where  I  am 

sure  he  told  the  hens  about  it  with  an  air  of 

importance.     I  think  he  felt  that  I  might  do 

53 


strange  and  dangerous  things ;    so  it  might 
Topsy-turvy 

,       .,          be  just  as  well  to  run  away.     Roosters  are 

peculiar  ;  they  change  their  minds  before  you 
know  it. 

The  man  said,  "  Let 's  have  some  fun," 
clapping  his  hands  with  a  pop.  Off  I  ran, 
Barbara  on  my  back.  I  jumped  the  fence 
without  touching  it.  I  galloped  through  the 
barnyard,  and  scared  the  chickens  most  to 
death,  all  the  more  because  my  paws  made  no 
noise.  I  climbed  the  side  of  the  barn  way  up 
to  the  weather-vane,  and  Barbara  made  the 
wind  come  from  all  directions.  When  she 
had  tied  her  hair  ribbon  around  the  rooster's 
neck,  I  scampered  down  the  other  side,  all  the 
time  barking,  and  lowing,  and  yowling,  and 
neighing,  sometimes  separately,  sometimes 
mixed  up.  I  scratched  everything  that  I 
could  lay  my  paws  upon  ;  the  feeling  of  paws 
was  new  and  pleasant,  and  being  big  claws  like 

54 


a  lion's,  left  fine  deep  scratches  in  things.    All 
' 


Impossibilities 


.  .,        ,  .  ,  c 

the  time  1  wagged  my  tail,  which  was  fun  ; 

but  it  worked  too  easily,  and  I  could  not  tell  excitement. 
exactly  the  place  to  put  it  —  it  felt  slight  and 
airy,  and  I  rather  missed  the  swish  of  my  own. 
We  then  went  to  the  orchard  and  into  the 
very  top  of  a  big  apple-tree.  Both  of  us  ate 
apples  up  there.  After  that,  we  stole  quietly 
to  the  house,  into  the  front  door,  and  upstairs 
to  the  garret  ;  there  I  tried  to  catch  a  mouse, 
but  I  could  n't  get  behind  trunks.  Barbara 
dressed  up  in  a  blue  satin  gown  and  put  a  gold 
crown  on  her  head.  I  heard  the  children  and 
Jay  and  the  Man  coming,  so  we  hurried  down 
stairs  through  the  kitchen  and  out  of  doors 
again.  Everybody  was  after  us,  scampering, 
screaming,  and  laughing.  I  turned  upon  them 
all,  and  made  believe  I  was  fierce,  for  I 
growled,  barked,  yowled,  neighed,  snorted, 
in  terrificly  quick  succession.  I  clawed  the 

55 


ground,  and  lashed  out  with   my  paws ;  so 
Going  home. 

they  all  got  out  of  the  way.     Barbara  said, 

"  Catch  us  if  you  can,"  and  away  we  flew,  over 
meadows  and  bridges,  through  clover-fields 
and  sweet  woods,  along  brown  roads  and  nar 
row  green  lanes,  up  hill  and  down,  faster  and 
faster.  The  wind  went  by  on  both  sides  of  us. 
Barbara's  bright  hair  waved  out  behind,  like 
sunlight  running  in  a  stream.  We  galloped  on 
to  the  land  by  the  sky.  There  we  stopped, 
for  we  came  up  against  a  blue  wall.  I  became 
a  real  horse  again,  and  very  tired.  The  Sun 
went  down.  Barbara  led  me  home  by  a  blue 
ribbon.  Her  crown  was  crooked ;  her  hair 
hung  straight.  The  satin  gown  dragged  in  the 
dewy  grass  all  twisted  and  limp,  and  bothered 
her.  Her  heart  was  full  of  "going  home," 
her  mind  all  bewilderment,  and  her  little 
body  was  tired.  So  we  went  home  in  the  last 
light  of  the  sun. 

56 


WHAT   BETSY    DID. 


THE    PLAYFUL   WIND    IN    MY 
HAIR. 


CHAPTER  V.     WHAT  BETSY  DID. 

A  GOOD  time  the  other  day. 

The  finding  of 
Sometimes  I  run  away  from  the    New  Things 

other  children  to  find  new  things 
all  my  own,  and  then  I  make 
these  things  look  as  I  want 
them  to.  If  the  others  join  in,  they  have 
so  many  ways  that  everything  is  mixed  up. 
It 's  fun  to  play  with  the  children  most 

v 

of  the  time,  but  I  like  to  do  my  own  way 
best  of  all.  I  don't  mind  Boy's  helping  me  ; 
for  he  seems  to  see  just  as  I  do,  and  does 
the  next  act  right — as  I  would  do  it. 

Some  days  come  all  full  of  strange  sounds 
which  whirl  in  the  air,  and  with  the  sounds 
are  Voices;  the  words  I  cannot  quite  make 
out,  but  it  seems  to  me  that  they  call  me  to 

59 


go  out  into  the  broad  world  to  seek  adven- 

adventure     tures-   I  get  mY  mmd  crammed  with  thoughts 

begun.          of  the  sunshine   and  wind,  and    things   all 

colored  brown  and  green  and  streaked  with 

pink.     I  want  to  run  and  jump,  I  long  to 

think  about  great  things  that  I  cannot  buy, 

and   I   use   my  thoughts  so  hard  that  what 

I  wish  to  have  comes  true,  even  to  the  real 

smell  and  color  of  them. 

A  day  of  the  adventure  I  will  tell  you  of 
now.  I  was  drawn  hard  towards  the  Ocean. 
I  wanted  to  be  alone  to  build  and  make,  just 
by  myself.  So  I  went  to  the  beach.  I  had 
no  hat  on,  and  my  hair  was  down.  I  ran 
all  the  way  there.  I  could  jump  to  the 
tops  of  the  trees  and  right  over  bridges  very 
long  and  come  to  the  ground  as  light  as  a 
leaf  upon  the  grass.  I  went  sliding  down 
the  yellow  sand-hills  that  slip  out  under  you. 
I  screamed  or  sang  loud  and  soft.  I  laughed 
60 


because  I  was  so  happy  and  free.     I  love, 

The  wind  out 
too,  to  hear  my  voice  with  the  great  sound    of  the  ocean 

of  roaring  noise.  It  is  always  sweet  in  my 
ears,  when  other  noises  are  so  loud  that  I 
cannot  send  my  voice  far  beyond  my  lips. 
It  is  strange — but  in  an  even  clatter  or 
steady  roar  I  always  do  everything  "  in 
time,"  and  I  can  make  up  poetry  that  is 
beautiful — only  I  forget  it  when  the  clatter 
stops.  I  wonder  why  ? 

I  saw  everything  as  I  went  along,  green, 
pink,  and  yellow.  Blue  was  mixed  up  with 
brown  in  streaks.  The  colors  all  had  a 
good  smell.  That  day  was  dear.  Some 
wind  came  crooked  out  of  the  ocean  and 
was  alive  and  happy.  The  sound  in  my 
ears  seemed  all  over  the  whole  world.  It 
was  the  ocean  and  the  wind.  The  wind 
makes  me  laugh.  As  I  ran,  it  slipped  around 
me  and  wrapped  me  up,  like  soft  ribbons. 
61 


I   could  n't  see ;     but   I    turned   round  and 
The  gum-tree 

,   h  round  and  unwrapped  the  wind,  and  pulled 

water-tank.  it  out  of  my  hair.  I  said  "  Shoo,  Wind  !  " 
and  He  slid  over  the  sand  and  made  waves 
on  some  water  that  was  there.  The  water 
got  angry  with  the  wind,  but  could  n't  chase 
it,  so  it  was  cross  and  cold  ;  but  the  wind 
did  n't  care,  and  went  fluffing  off  to  curl 
around  a  gum-tree.  You  should  have  seen 
the  gum-tree  when  the  wind  went  at  it !  The 
leaves  talked  and  laughed  and  screamed,  and 
were  made  of  silver  and  pink. 

I  'd  like  to  be  a  gum-tree  or  a  water- 
tank.  Water-tanks  think  lots  and  do  good, 
and  are  very  satisfied  with  themselves  — 
they  always  smile.  If  I  could  be  anything 
I  wanted  to,  I  would  be  one  now  and 
then. 

I  went  on  and  on  very  far,  till  I  came 
to  the  Ocean.  But  it  roared  so  I  thought 
62 


it  might  flood  the  earth  and  drown  every- 
body  ;  so  I  looked  around  for  a  Ugh  place 
to  get  on.  I  found  a  whole  tity  of  Kopjes 
(those  ate  die  things  people  fight  on  top 
of  .  The  one  I  took  came  out  of  the 
ground,  just  like  a  big  chicken  cioquctle 
on  a  dish,  for  it  was  shaped  like  one.  I 
climbed  to  the  top  of  mj  Kopje  and  looked 
everywhere — mine  was  the  highest;  but  I 
was  afraid  of  being  conquered,  so  I  set 
Madge  (that's  my  doll)  up  there  to  keep 
my  hill.  I  went  and  got  a  long  sea-weed 
which  was  a  big  snake — oh,  so  long !  I  put 
the  snake  around  my  hill,  so  no  enemies 
could  climb  up;  for  they  would  be  afraid 
when  they  saw  the  snake  guarding  my 
Hill.  I  was  safe  then,  and  Madge  and  I 
talked. 

The  Kopje  was  wonderful,  and  full  of 
strange   things.     There    were    holes    with 

63 


dragons    inside,   big   bugs,   and   white   sand 
The  coming 
of  Boy  w        black  spots.     I   tried  to  get  the  black 

spots  together,  but  it  took  too  long.  Soon 
it  was  night ;  so  I  was  afraid — for  my  snake 
might  go  to  sleep,  and  then  an  enemy  would 
come.  So  I  dug  down  into  the  top  of  my 
Kopje  and  got  inside.  I  looked  around, 
and  it  was  like  the  inside  of  a  beehive,  with 
out  any  bees.  The  whole  room  was  covered 
with  shells,  of  all  the  colors  I  liked,  and  the 
floor  laid  with  chocolate  tiles.  (I  ate  lots 
and  gave  Madge  some.)  We  had  a  good 
time  in  there ;  for  all  around  were  doll- 
houses  with  things  in  them — chairs,  and 
tables,  and  stoves,  and  curtains,  and  beds, 
and  everything, — more  than  I  ever  had, — 
besides  two  guns  and  bows  and  arrows ;  so 
I  wished  Boy  was  there.  Then  Boy  came, 
and  it  was  real  cozy. 

By  and  by  it  began  to  rain,  and  blow,  and 
64 


storm  outside,  but  we  did  n  t  get  wet,  and  no 

The  whiskers 
enemies  could  find  us.     Boy  said  he  would    Ofthe  Dragon 

defend  me,  for  he  had  a  gun ;  so  we  went 
outside  again.  It  was  daytime.  The  city 
of  Kopjes  was  gone,  and  we  were  in  the 
middle  of  a  dark  forest.  We  could  n't  see 
the  sky.  We  heard  the  ocean  roar,  but  we 
did  n't  know  where  it  was — it  seemed  all 
around  us.  We  were  on  an  island.  We 
walked  a  long  time,  full  of  fear — but  we 
did  n't  seem  to  mind.  Then  we  came  to  a 
Dragon,  and  Boy  shot  him,  and  stood  on 
the  Dragon's  head  and  cut  his  whiskers  off 
for  a  scalp. 

After  that  we  came  to  a  river  which  was 
blue  and  not  very  deep ;  so  we  got  into  a 
boat  and  sailed  toward  the  Sun.  The  boat 
sailed  away  very  fast.  I  sat  in  the  front  and 
looked  down  to  the  bottom  of  the  river, 
which  was  as  deep  then  as  a  house  is  high. 

65 


I    could  see   little  cities   at  the  bottom,  all 
Things  slip  . 

white    like    glass,  and   m   the   houses   Jived 

3W3V  • 

goldfish,  which  swam  in  and  out  of  the  doors 
and  looked  out  of  the  windows.  I  could  see 
them  shine  up  through  the  roofs  of  the 
houses. 

So  we  sailed  on,  and  Boy  was  silent,  for 
he  saw  many  things  and  was  thinking  hard. 
Then  we  came  to  the  shore.  Our  boat 
sailed  back  to  the  black  forest  again  all 
alone.  We  could  see  its  white  sail,  far,  far 
away  against  the  black  forest  on  the  other 
shore.  I  was  tired  and  sad.  The  sounds 
around  the  world  were  gone.  I  could  not 
think  things  into  shape  any  more.  Every 
thing  began  to  slip  away.  Then  we  came 
home. 

I  wonder  sometimes  if  all  people  feel 
uncomfortable  and  dissatisfied  and  near  to 
crying  when  they  come  home  after  having 
66 


wonderful  adventures.    Of  course,  I  love  my 

.  .  Work  and 

relations ;     but  there   are   times   when   they 

seem  far  away  and  cold,  because  they  are 
thinking  only  of  work  to  do,  and  necessary 
things. 


A    DREAM,    PERHAPS. 


THERE    IS   NO    REASON   WHY. 


CHAPTER 
HAPS. 


VI.      A    DREAM,    PER 


TH  ERE  may  be  no  good  reason 

why  I,  a  Boy,  should  have  this     The  heart 

of  a  Boy. 

strange  thing  come  to  me.  Per 
haps  it  was  a  dream  of  the  Day, 
formed  and  built  into  com 
pleted  happenings  from  a  heart  that  went 
out  to  dumb  things.  Often  and  often, 
before  I  knew  it,  my  soul  passed  into  the 
creature  and  lived  out  its  life  in  every 
detail,  save  that  the  Boy  gave  to  the  living 
thing  greater  knowledge,  passions,  rebellion, 
and  human  failings.  I  never  felt  the  animal 
to  be  more  virtuous  for  my  visit ;  but  it  had 
for  the  time  a  power  to  protest,  and  /  came 
back  to  the  Boy  world  again  gentler,  purer, 

71 


warmer  m  heart,  and  each  journey  gave  me 
Changing 
a  form         added    understanding    of    the    dear    dumb 

thing.  My  heart  has  beat  in  him ;  his 
tongue  remained  without  the  power  of 
speech  while  I  was  there.  Some  fresh 
memory  of  Man's  cruelty  to  an  animal 
swelled  my  young  heart  nigh  to  bursting — 
the  harder  to  endure  because  I  was  young 
and  had  no  gift  of  word  protest.  At  these 
times,  the  Dream,  or  whatever  it  was,  came 
out  of  a  misty  mass  of  fading  reality,  and 
out  of  tears. 

A  smell  of  hay,  of  wet  oats  and  stable ; 
my  hoofs  scuffed  in  the  straw  of  the  night's 
bedding.  I  felt  the  narrow  limits  of  the 
stall — a  rope  halter  through  a  hole  in  the 
hay-bin  bound  my  head.  I  was  cold,  and 
shivered  as  I  listened  in  a  daze  to  the  hiss 
and  humming  of  the  man  as  he  curried  me 
down,  beating  the  comb  against  the  sides 
72 


of  the  stall.     Anger    rose   in   me  when   he 

The  first 
whacked  me  in  the   side  with  a  "  Get  o  er     revoit 

there,  boy  !  "  I  lashed  out,  drove  him  from 
the  stall,  and  for  a  moment  would  have 
killed  him. 

I  strained  at  the  halter,  and  kicked  wildly 
at  the  stall-sides,  frightening  the  black  mare 
to  the  left  of  me.  Then,  coming  to  realize 
that  I  had  no  hands,  I  set  myself  to  wear 
through  the  rope  by  gnawing  and  chafing, 
and  at  last,  breaking  the  buckle  at  the  side 
of  my  head,  I  shook  myself  loose  with  a 
neigh  of  wild  delight.  The  west  wind  blew 
through  the  barn  window  cold  upon  my 
naked  sides.  I  felt  too  large  in  body  and 
soul  for  the  place  I  was  in.  My  soul  longed 
for  love  and  a  gentle  human  touch  ;  so  my 
mind  brought  up  the  image  of  my  little 
playmate,  whom  I  loved  near  to  worship. 
To  Her  I  would  go,  and  great  would  be 

73 


the  frolicking  of  that  Day.     Rebellion  was 
Liberty. 

forgotten,  and  only  love  for  the  Child  was 

in  my  heart.     I   lifted  the   rusty  iron  latch 
and  walked  out  into  the  world. 

Sunshine,  green  grass,  a  cool  Spring 
breeze,  apple-blossoms  between  the  garden 
paths,  all  smooth  and  straight,  and  a  gravel 
drive  winding  out  to  the  main  road.  A 
delicious  madness  got  into  me,  and  I  breathed 
deep  of  the  fresh  air,  and  snorted  and  sneezed. 
Frantic  with  freedom,  my  heels  lashed  out 
and  my  tail  whirled  and  whisked.  I  squealed 
and  beat  the  yielding  sod.  I  sprang  to  my 
right  and  left,  and  stopped  short,  my  head 
thrown  high,  and  my  mane  a  tangle  of  shiny 
black.  Then  I  stopped,  standing  with  fore 
legs  parted ;  for  I  saw  People  coming,  and 
She  was  with  them.  I  turned  my  arched  tail 
upon  them,  and  with  a  high-headed  trot, 
kicking  every  fifty  paces  or  so,  shying  at 
74 


every  twig,  leaf,  and  shadow,  broke  into  a 

J  rr* \         /">!_  *1  J 

J  -11  -11-11  -1  T          ThC    Chll<1 

mad  run  until  the  wind  licked  my  sides.     1     ancj  a  pjorse 

clattered  over  the  cedar  bridge,  but  stopped 

there    and    turned    back   to  hear   my   hoofs 

rattle  again  upon  the  loose   boards  and  to 

smell  the  fresh  mint  that  grew  between  the 

stones  near  the  water.      Then  out   to   the 

main  street,  wild  with  speed.      A  green  and 

brown    blur    rushed    by    me,    and    I    heard 

through  the  pounding  of  my  hoofs  many  a 

"Whoa!  Whoa!" 

I  came  to  a  meadow,  green  and  wet,  and  a 
brook  with  a  hillside  beyond,  where  a  little 
child  was  playing  among  flowers,  and  she 
laughed  to  see  the  mud  clouds  rise  and  float 
away  as  I  nozzled  the  water.  I  went  up  to 
her,  and  she  clasped  her  dirty  arms  around 
my  wet  fore-legs  until  her  screaming  mother 
hurried  her  away. 

At    last  I   grew  tired  of  freedom,  and  I 

75 


wandered  home.     I  had  a  feeling  of  shame, 
Understanding. 

but  the  Child  would  know  of  the   Boy  in 

the  horse,  and  the  rest  were  blind ;  so  what 
cared  I  ?  I  went  to  my  stall,  and  after  I  was 
rubbed  down  and  cared  for  (but  I  would  not 
bear  the  halter)  she  came  to  me,  and  I  made 
broad  room  for  Her.  She  stroked  my  neck 
and  nose  and  laid  her  cheek  near  my  eyes, 
and  murmured  things  which  only  my  heart 
understood ;  her  fingers  passed  along  my 
neck  and  through  my  mane,  and  I  trembled 
with  a  great  joy.  I  was  sick  at  heart  when 
she  left,  telling  me  to  stay,  and  I  whinnied 
pitifully,  burning  to  speak. 

From  this  day  I  was  free  ;  for  I  was  little 
use  to  my  owner,  revolting  at  bridle  and 
harness,  and  obeying  only  Her.  I  would 
not  be  a  horse  with  other  horses.  Bitterness 
toward  men  and  my  own  kind  grew  day 
by  day.  I  would  have  told  horses  of  their 

76 


great    strength    and    how   to  use  it  against 

O  O  O  vrfiir   1  J 

,,11  ,  ,  ,  ,  .      Willful  and 

Man ;   but  they  could  not  learn  and  would     ^    ^ 

not  understand.  I  went  to  and  fro  as  I 
willed.  I  followed  Her  as  a  dog  might ;  a 
cat's  tread  was  no  lighter  than  mine  as  I 
passed  in  and  out  between  things  that  break, 
doing  no  harm. 

Willful  and  fond,  she  governed  me  with 
caresses  and  whispered  secrets  on  our  wild 
rides  together  over  the  hills.  She  was  gentle 
and  kind,  but  sometimes  she  exacted  hard 
and  strange  things  of  me,  because  of  the 
mischief  in  her.  When  I  was  lying  down, 
she  would  tell  me  to  get  up  hind  parts  first, 
like  a  cow,  or  she  would  find  a  great  delight 
in  making  me  roll  over  uphill. 

She  rode  me  bareback  and  astride,  with 
strands  of  my  mane  for  bridle-reins.  Never 
horse  had  such  a  smooth  gait  as  I  made  for 
her.  I  touched  the  earth  so  as  never  once 

77 


to  iar  her.     I  picked  out  the  places  we  both 

The  straight 

jane  loved  most — a  green  hill-top  where  the  tree- 

boughs  were  high  from  the  ground,  and  the 
long,  straight  lane,  where  I  would  lower  my 
neck  and  fly  away,  to  feel  her  knees  press 
tight  against  my  sides,  watching  from  the  tail 
of  my  eye  her  tumbled  hair  and  clutching 
fingers  in  my  mane. 

Sometimes  I  would  stop  short,  throwing 
her  gently  off.  Then  she  would  beat  my 
face  in  anger  with  her  closed  fists,  to  my 
delight,  for  I  loved  the  greater  weight  of  her 
little  hands.  Then  came  remorse  and  ten 
derness,  as  she  drew  my  head  close  to  her 
heart,  running  her  fingers  through  my  fore 
lock  and  mane  close  to  the  top  of  the  neck, 
where  the  flesh  is  warm.  So  I  took  a  sweet 
delight  in  her  repentance. 


After    this,  came  days    of    fear,    passion, 

......  .  .          Days  of  fear. 

and  sorrow.     "Exhibit  him  ;    he  is  a  mint 

to  you,"  I  heard  them  say.  So  I  threw 
down  everything  that  stood  in  my  way  and 
fled.  I  roved  through  the  bog-marshes  and 
alder-bushes  ;  I  tore  in  rage  at  the  branches 
which  scratched  my  sides.  A  smarting  sting 
was  in  my  eyes  for  tears  that  could  not 
flow.  At  last,  needing  the  care  of  Man 
again,  I  returned,  and  felt  her  hand,  love 
burning  in  me,  pride  and  rebellion  broke  my 
heart. 

Man  had  his  will ;  so  this  came  into  my 
life  :  A  circus-ring,  dusty,  brown,  and  hot ; 
a  sky  of  heaving  yellow  canvas ;  a  hum 
of  many  voices  and  a  vile  smell  of  many 
beasts  —  Oh,  the  green  trees,  the  long  lane, 
and  the  west  wind  !  I  stood  trembling, 
with  my  head  thrust  far  out  and  low,  trying 
to  understand  it  all.  I  heard,  as  though  a 

79 


dry  oak-board   had  broken,  the  crack  of  a 
Hard  lips  . 

and  shining    whip.      1    saw   the   ringmaster — a  fearsome 

eyes.  but  silly  man  in  black.     A  wild  rush  about 

the  ring  in  search  of  an  opening,  and  then 
I  stopped ;  for  I  loved  a  Child,  and  children 
were  there.  Love,  gentleness,  and  appeal 
covered  me  like  a  cloak.  Surely  no  words 
were  needed ;  they  should  have  seen  I 
smiled,  and  my  eyes  were  soft,  looking  for 
my  little  friend.  To  and  fro  I  went,  but 
saw  no  kindly  hand — only  thousands  of 
faces,  shining  eyes,  and  hard  lips — but  not 
one  look  of  understanding.  I  backed  and 
bowed  and  strained  my  throat  to  speak,  and 
the  crowd  cheered.  With  my  left  fore-foot 
I  scraped  rude  angular  letters  in  the  dirt — a 
word  that  they  must  know ;  but  only  stupid, 
wondering  faces  all  around.  Then  I  felt  a 
sharp  sting  upon  my  side,  and  my  wrath 
blazed  up.  A  crash  —  dust  —  screams  — 
80 


breaking  timbers  —  a  black  form  upon  the 

The  Boy 
ground,  and  I  awoke  to  life  again ! 

O  * 

The  mists  of  real  things  clear,  the  Dream 
has  slipped  back  into  the  store  of  other 
memories.  I  had  been  a  Horse  for  the  Day. 
I  was  no  less  a  boy,  and  better,  because  the 
Dream  had  come  to  me. 


81 


SOME    WORDS    ABOUT    COLORS, 
SMELLS,   AND    MOONLIGHT. 


FEW  WORDS  ABOUT  THE  SPELL 
OF   NIGHT. 


CHAPTER  VII.  SOME  WORDS 
ABOUT  COLORS,  SMELLS,  AND 
MOONLIGHT. 

DOG  of  the  best  understanding 

knows  a  friend  without  smelling     The  comin& 

of  a  Friend, 
legs.     1  know  the  approach  or 

one  long  before  my  eyes  note 
the  shape  or  color  of  him.  The 
coming  of  a  friend  is  borne  down  on  the 
wind  or  fills  the  bigness  about  me  with  a 
great  contentment  and  rest.  Have  you  ever 
seen  a  dog  sitting  alone,  noting  in  silence 
a  thousand  passing  things,  gently  wag  his 
tail  and  let  the  expression  of  love  cover  him 
all  over  from  nose  to  tail-tip?  He  has  not 
seen  you,  you  have  not  spoken,  but  he  knows 
the  presence  of  a  Friend,  and  happy  is  the 

85 


Day.     Man  s  eye   takes   into  his   mind   all 
The  fullness  . 

of  the  Day      passing  things  in  a  lump  or  understanding, 

but  a  Dog  notes  every  small  detail  with  light 
ning  quickness,  and  each  thing  he  sees  is 
bright  with  interest  for  him. 

Sometimes  the  Day  is  so  full  that  even  he 
cannot  grasp  all  that  is  doing.  Spring  days 
are  so,  and  I  have  often  rushed  here  and  there 
with  mixed  barks  and  growls,  so  bewildered 
have  I  been  in  my  inability  to  seize  and  un 
derstand  the  passing  wonders.  It  may  help 
you  to  better  see  my  meaning  if  I  tell  in  few 
words  of  the  fullness  of  a  Spring  Day.  The 
Heart  will  not  warm,  nor  will  the  mind  take 
hold  of  moving  life,  if  there  lingers  in  you 
the  memory  of  naughtiness,  you  are  sick,  the 
smell  of  carrion  lurks  about  you  or  on  the 
wind.  I  most  enjoy  observing  the  Day  from 
the  steps  of  my  Friend's  home ;  for  there 
I  am  free,  and  alertness  need  not  fill  the 
86 


mind   and    drive   away  gentleness,  softness, 

.  .  A  busy  mind, 

and  openness  of  mind  to  take  in  all  things. 

I  do  not  know  that  the  sights  I  see  would 
tempt  a  man  to  do  my  way,  but  I  will  tell 
of  the  things  that  go  to  fill  a  Dog's  Day  in 
Spring. 

I  sit  and  wait  for  the  power  of  seeing  to 
come  to  me,  with  looseness  of  mind  and  body. 
The  air  is  filled  with  smells,  which  first  are 
to  be  noticed ;  for  they  whirl  past  in  fleeting 
lines,  one  after  the  other,  or  in  a  tangle  of 
uselessness.  I  am  kept  busy  giving  each 
smell  its  best  color  and  shape.  I  single  out 
those  that  will  be  most  pleasing  to  follow  up 
and  scatter  or  break  when  I  have  time,  on 
another  day.  Every  Dog  has  an  own  smell 
which  he  claims  as  his  own,  and  he  uses  it 
as  his  Word  of  Right  to  be  a  normal  Dog 
among  Dogs. 

Sounds  then   fill   his   mind.      The  noise 


of  leaves  scraping  in  the  wind,  the  dripping 

Sounds  and 

a  thousand      °*  water>  tne  buzzing  of  bugs,  the  snip  of  a 
things.  fly's  wings  in  a  sun  spot,  the  wind  in  the  new 

places  it  mixes  into,  the  cracking  of  dry  wood, 
and  the  separate  sounds  of  birds,  chickens, 
all  animals,  Man  alone,  and  Man's  contriv 
ances,  these  are  but  a  few  of  many  that  come, 
and  are  each  noticed.  Great  pleasure  there 
is  in  letting  go  the  knowledge  of  each 
separate  sound,  and  taking  a  feeling  of  all 
sounds  as  one  great  roar  of  life,  and  giving 
one  sharp  bark  to  add  to  the  collection  of 
sound,  so  feeling  that  I  have  given  a  frag 
ment  to  go  with  the  rest,  that  /  have  made 
the  whole  different  and  bigger,  and  my  power 
makes  it  so. 

During  all  the  time  of  noticing  smells  and 
sounds,  the  eye  is  busy,  too,  but  leaves  enjoy 
ing  sight  till  the  last.     I  may  not  here  tell 
of  a  thousand  things  that  make  me  itch  with 
88 


interest,  but  it  is  enough  to  mention  a  few 
i  •  1-1  TV/T  Observation, 

things  which  a  JJog  sees  that  Man   passes 

by  unnoticed.  The  marvel  of  mixed  colors 
over  all  the  earth,  and  why  they  are,  for  each 
separate  thing  fills  me  with  wonder  almost 
approaching  dread.  Then  tiny  bits  of  life, 
and  flashing  light,  and  dust  floating  in  slant 
ing  columns  of  sun — floating  bits  of  wool 
shimmering  with  red,  blue,  and  purple. 
Sometimes  I  nozzle  and  ruff  into  the  mass 
of  moving  color  to  see  what  will  happen. 
Sun  spots  glimmer  and  shift.  The  running 
ant  stops  short  and  turns  about  as  he  comes 
to  a  flickering  mass  of  light.  A  lady-bug 
feels  her  way  along  a  blade  of  grass  and  is 
so  slow  opening  her  wings  that  she  has  a 
tumble  down  a  dark  hole,  and  climbs  up  to 
the  top  of  another  swaying  blade  and  dashes 
away  only  to  have  a  new  fall.  Flies  balance 
in  a  shining  column  of  sun,  with  wings 


gleaming.     They  whirl  and   dive   after  one 
The  noises  of 
a  S  rin    Da       another,  or  at  me,  so  that  I  snap  to  have  one 

— with  no  malice,  however,  but  rather  from 
habit.  Things  there  are  far  away,  on  the 
hilltop,  against  the  sky.  A  horse  browsing 
and  whisking  his  tail  and  a  running  Dog — 
these  are  strange  to  me.  I  sharpen  my  ears 
in  an  effort  to  hear,  for  what  I  see  has  sound 
somewhere ;  so  I  doubt  my  ears. 

I  will  speak  no  more  of  these  little  things 
I  see;  for  I  find  my  mind  thrusting  ahead 
into  a  whirl  of  them,  all  of  great  delight  to 
me,  but  which  may  seem  too  small  for  me 
to  look  at  or  into.  So  the  Spring  Day 
whirls  and  buzzes  with  life,  and  shows  with 
vividness  an  abundance  of  color,  joy  of  many 
smells,  and  the  clash,  boom,  and  bewilder 
ment  of  sounds,  mixed  up  or  separate,  as  I 
wish  to  take  them. 

A  Dog  has  not  the  power  of  speech,  in 
90 


Man's  way — for  his  tongue  and  throat  are 

J  .         The  reward  of 

not  shaped   for   Man's  words;   but  lacking  the  Cruel  One. 

that,  he  has  other  gifts  which  give  greater 
pleasure  and  are  more  use  than  speech.  But 
when  I  see  cruelty  to  dumb  things,  I  would 
surrender  all  to  have  a  tongue  fitted  for 
word  making  so  that  I  could  pour  out  a 
mass  of  true  and  stinging  words — words  with 
the  power  to  hold  the  hand  of  the  Cruel  One. 
Some  day,  when  a  Man  has  perfected  his 
cruelty,  and  one  Dumb  Animal  has  reached 
the  limit  of  endurance,  a  Voice  will  come  out 
of  the  creature's  soul,  deep  down  around  a 
suffering  heart.  The  words  shall  strike  ter 
ror  into  the  Man,  and  he  shall  go  about 
on  all  fours  to  live  the  balance  of  his  days 
cringing  in  fear  of  a  blow,  his  lips  shall  shape 
no  words  of  protest  or  appeal,  and  his  eyes 
shall  be  tearless.  Such  shall  be  his  reward. 
It  is  not  here  that  I  would  tell  of  Man's 

91 


cruelty,  but  rather  do  I  wish  to  take  into 
Man's  powers 
and  a  Do  's      m^  heart  a^  °f  Love,  that  I  may  better  tell 

my  true  feelings  and  opinions.  Knowing 
what  a  Dog  lacks  in  certain  ways,  you  must 
see  that  he  has  what  no  one  can  ever  get. 
Without  many  powers,  the  few  he  has  are  all 
complete.  Man  has  words  to  use ;  a  Dog 
has  a  wonder  of  expression,  the  greater  for 
his  lack  of  words.  Man  reasons,  and  acts 
upon  his  reason;  a  Dog  has  instinct,  and 
no  man  knows  its  limit;  which  stands  instead 
of  reason;  this  is  surely  known,  at  least  by 
those  who  stop  in  their  set  way  of  thinking 
and  open  their  hearts. 

I  now  would  speak  some  words  of  Colors, 
Smells,  and  Sounds.  I  may  not  say  all  I 
would,  but  enough  to  give  a  newly  started 
power  to  think  deeper  into  the  matter.  All 
colors  to  us  have  form — varied,  of  course,  as 
the  colors  vary,  changed  in  shape  by  the  sun, 
92 


shadow,  and  for  other  reasons.     Colors  also 

The  clearness 
have  their  own  special   smell  or  taste,  and     0fBiue 

they  are  always  the  same;  of  course,  mixed 
colors  and  mixed  smells  are  of  uncertain 
tastes.  Then,  too,  smells  have  distinct  shapes, 
varying  only  according  to  their  strength  or 
weakness,  and  their  colors  always  remain 
their  own,  as  does  their  taste.  Sounds  have 
form,  color,  odor,  and  taste.  I  shall  here 
tell  in  few  words  of  some  of  them,  so  that 
it  may  be,  as  you  go  along  noting  the  things 
doing  in  a  day,  you  will  see  the  truth  of 
what  I  shall  tell  and  benefit  thereby,  and 
noting  from  a  distance  smells  not  good,  you 
may  pass  another  way. 

BLUE  is  shaped  all  in  curves,  and  looks 
like  clouds  before  a  Spring  breeze,  or  a  child's 
curly  hair ;  it  has  no  sharp  points  or  corners, 
and  one  need  never  fear  it.  The  smell  of 
blue  is  always  welcome,  and  brings  wags 

93 


of  contentment,  and  the  taste  of  it  many 
and  Purple  '  nose-lickings.  New  hay  has  the  smell  of 
blue,  and  dry  rose-leaves.  The  taste  is  sweet, 
like  new  milk. 

GREEN  goes  in  lines  of  great  and  little 
thickness,  like  the  strings  of  a  harp,  and  has 
its  borders  in  the  form  of  a  harp ;  its  smell 
is  that  of  crushed  grass,  and  it  is  bitter  of 
taste. 

YELLOW  is  like  an  egg  in  shape.  A 
little  of  the  smell  of  it  is  good — its  frag 
ments  or  edges  ;  but  the  whole  of  it  fills  you 
up  and  will  sicken  you.  A  small  smell  is  of 
the  Jasmine  flower ;  but  much  yellow  brings 
carrion  to  mind — so  the  taste  of  it  is  like 
its  smell. 

PURPLE  is  all  of  curves,  like  blue,  only 
not  so  gentle  or  so  small.  It  is  heavier  and 
larger,  and  one  tires  of  the  shape  of  it,  for 
it  seems  too  full  of  roundness.  But  the 

94 


smell  is  in  no  way  like  the  smell  of  blue; 

Brown,  and  the 
for  it  is   thick   and    strong   and    brings   on  goodness  of  it, 

sickish  sleep  and  bad  dreams.  The  smell 
I  cannot  tell,  nor  its  taste.  I  once  smelled 
an  empty  bottle  marked  "Extract  of  Va 
nilla,"  that  seemed  to  me  a  purple  smell, 
and  't  is  likely  what  was  in  the  bottle  tasted 
purple,  but  I  did  not  taste  it  to  prove  my 
theory. 

BROWN  is  the  most  important  of  all 
colors,  and  is  a  wonder  of  power  and  con 
tradiction.  It  is  goodness  and  badness, 
mystery  and  plainness,  cruelty  and  kindness. 
It  bears  a  thousand  shapes,  according  to  its 
will  or  the  use  you  make  of  it.  Its  useful 
and  Dog's  shape  is  like  the  trunk  of  a  great 
tree  sawed  from  boughs  to  roots,  laid  upon 
the  ground,  the  outside  upwards.  The 
smell  of  it  is  in  all  cooked  foods,  and  the 
taste  of  it  also.  Still,  for  all  the  goodness 

95 


of  brown  (and  good  it  is,  for  it  meets  the 
White  and 
Black   but  no      QYGS  a  mouth  and  nose  at  every 

words  of  RED.  turn),  it  may  go  hand  in  hand  with  other 
colors,  all  mixed  and  wrong,  so  at  times  it  is 
a  poison,  and  bitter,  like  Green,  sickening, 
like  much  Yellow,  and  overpowering,  like 
fat  Purple. 

WHITE  has  no  shape,  for  it  is  like  air, 
water,  thought,  sweetness,  and  breath.  White 
is  all  that  is  best  in  dogs.  Breathing  white 
ness,  walking  into  it,  lying  down,  rising  up, 
and  going  about  in  it,  brings  Wisdom  and 

Joy. 

BLACK  I  do  not  know  the  shape  of; 
only  to  me  it  is  great  and  good,  soft  and 
deep,  thick  to  touch,  and  smooth  like  a  horse's 
nose;  and  so  I  love  the  night,  for  I  can  see 
pictures  of  what  I  most  love  against  it.  It 
wraps  me  up  close,  but  gently.  It  is  because 
of  this  great  love  of  Black  and  the  softness, 


that  most  dogs  howl,  make  a  fuss,  and  are 

The  Moon, 
nervous    and    unlike    themselves  when    the 

moon  is  full  and  high  in  the  sky. 

Some  dogs  take  the  moon  harder  than 
others  because  of  their  love  of  night  and 
black,  but  these  are  usually  dogs  of  small 
understanding,  whose  minds  are  bewildered 
by  the  cold  light  of  the  moon;  the  spot 
of  shiny  white  they  look  at  makes  strange 
shadows,  but  has  no  warmth  or  color.  You 
must  know  that  colors  and  smells  come  first 
in  a  dog's  life,  so  the  moonlight,  which  gives 
no  color  with  it,  unsettles  a  dog's  mind,  and 
he  howls,  with  his  nose  stretched  toward 
the  strange  light,  and  knows  not  why  he 
howls.  He  often  welcomes  the  blows  of 
man,  for  it  makes  life  seem  natural  during 
the  time  the  sting  or  memory  lasts. 

I  seldom  howl  at  the  moon ;  if  I  do,  it 
is  because  something  else  is  wrong — the 

97 


children  may  have  been  sent  to  bed  sad  and 
A  confession.         .  .        . 

misunderstood,  with  joy  cut  oft  incomplete, 

or  playing  half-way  done,  or  wanting  words 
of  understanding  to  end  the  day.  These 
things  spill  sadness  into  the  night ;  so  I 
howl.  The  distant  voice  of  a  Dog,  far,  far 
away,  I  sometimes  answer,  but  I  feel  ashamed 
of  myself,  and  quit  it  without  getting  a  kick. 
I  cannot  say,  however,  that  I  do  not  bark, 
I  do  that  most  needlessly,  for  many  foolish 
reasons. 

I  must  here  confess  that  my  moonlight 
bravery  is  a  surface  quality;  I  am  not  brave. 
I  try  to  make  it  appear  that  I  am,  by  over 
much  fierce  barking  and  sudden  dashes  into 
the  dark ;  but  I  never  go  too  near  the  sup 
posed  danger,  but  stop  with  legs  far  apart, 
ready  to  rush  every  way  at  once,  with  the 
most  uncontrolled  use  of  barks,  unintelligi 
ble  growls,  and  throat  noises,  and  I  am  cer- 
98 


tain  to  come  back  close  to  your  knee,  full 
of  bristles,  fragmentary  growls,  and  whines 
mixed  in,  because  I  am  puzzled  and  ashamed, 
and  you  will  notice  how  perfunctory  my  wag 
ging  is.  If  I  lick  your  hand,  it  never  shows 
more  than  a  measure  of  duty  fulfilled  and 
well  over.  I  am  not  brave,  but  I  want  you 
to  think  I  am.  I  take  upon  me  a  manner 
over- watchful.  If  an  enemy  should,  in  fact, 
be  there,  blindly  would  I  rush  and  fight ; 
but  fear  and  panic  would  be  in  my  heart  so 
I  could  not  fight  the  best  way. 

So  does  the  moon  scatter  a  dog's  wits. 
The  colorless  light  fills  the  heart  with  doubt 
and  the  mind  with  bewilderment,  but  the 
good,  black,  moonless  night  brings  new 
thoughts,  with  strength  for  brave  deeds  and 
deeper  Love  for  the  Loving. 


99 


ANTIPATHY,  CONTEMPT,  A 
GOAT,  AND  SOME   OTHERS. 


TAKE    GREAT   JOY   IN   THE 
ROOSTER. 


CHAPTER  VIII.  ANTIPATHY, 
CONTEMPT,  A  GOAT,  AND  SOME 
OTHERS. 

CANNOT  think  that  it  is  nat 
ural  for  a  Dog  to  go  through  the 

of  Enemies. 

days  of  his  life  without  having 
some  strong  feelings  of  hatred 
and  contempt.  Nor  can  he  go 
along  his  way  without  making  a  few  enemies. 
One  or  two  good  enemies  have  made  a  better 
and  wiser  dog  of  me.  It  would  be  too  easy 
and  monotonous  a  life  if  my  alertness  were 
not  now  and  again  stirred  to  action  and 
defense.  I  do  not  remember  ever  looking 
for  a  row  from  the  pure  love  of  one,  or  ever 
setting  my  tail  in  a  stiff  way  of  invitation  ; 
but  I  have  had  some  good  wholesome  fights, 
103 


and  I  rather  enjoyed  them  while  they  lasted. 
The  sulky 
D  In  fact,  on  each  occasion  I  was  loath  to  quit — 

so  much  so  that  when  my  enemy  was  nigh 
beyond  more  fighting,  they  had  to  twist  my 
tail  to  persuade  me  to  let  go  my  grip.  I  did 
let  go,  for  of  all  things,  I  most  respect  my 
tail,  and  the  twisting  hurt ;  besides,  I  could 
not  help  feeling  that  if  it  went  on,  my  future 
wagging  might  be  affected,  so  I  loosened 
my  jaw. 

It  comes  to  me  now  that  I  will  find 
pleasure  in  telling  somewhat  of  my  own 
kind,  and  other  dumb  things  that  I  meet 
daily  and  know  well.  There  is  a  dog  that 
awakens  in  me  the  first  buddings  of  fear, 
because  he  has  that  about  him  which  I  may 
never  fathom.  His  way  is  to  go  about  his 
business  with  concealed  defiance  in  every 
move  he  makes.  The  look  from  the  corner 
of  his  eye  burns  with  suspicion,  his  lips  roll 
104 


easily  to  show  his  side-teeth.     No  happiness 

..'••-.  The  method  of 

or  lightness  is  in  his  step,  and  1  know  that 

management. 

he  will  rend  and  slash  without  warning. 
When  I  first  met  this  dog,  my  instinct  was 
to  do  a  lot  of  barking,  bristle-raising,  dust- 
scratching,  much  running,  and  the  like, 
if  he  made  for  me,  but  age  and  greater 
knowledge  of  dogs  has  taught  me  how  to 
deal  with  his  kind. 

The  way  to  manage  him  without  coming 
to  a  fight  is  absolute  stiff-legged,  sure-purpose 
dignity,  with  not  a  hair  of  fear  showing,  nor 
an  instant  of  hesitation  in  your  purpose. 
You  must  go  the  shortest  way  to  him,  with 
an  even  walk,  never  taking  your  eyes  off  his 
tail.  Without  a  flicker  of  fear  about  you,  or 
even  most  formal  or  stiff-legged  greeting,  get 
your  jaw  over  his  shoulder  close  up  to  his 
neck.  Fasten  your  eyes  upon  the  spot  you 
will  grab  if  he  moves ;  then  growl  as  if  you 
105 


had  small  bones  in  your  throat.     Your  rigid 
The  French 
Poodle  attitude  of  fearless  warning  will  accomplish 

the  purpose  of  conquest  without  a  fight. 
The  enemy  will  not  stir  so  much  as  a  hair, 
and  if  you  exercise  the  right  force  of  mind 
he  will  give  you  no  trouble.  A  few  moments 
of  the  most  intense  concentration  on  your 
part  will  do  more  than  five  minutes  tangled 
fighting.  Finally,  greet  him  with  stiffness, 
then,  without  once  turning  your  head,  go 
back  to  your  place.  One  or  two  such  lessons 
will  teach  him  to  go  some  other  way.  So 
much  for  the  sulky  dog. 

There  are  some  dogs  that  excite  my  con 
tempt  ;  the  French  Poodle  is  one.  He  is 
unendurably  conceited,  and  always  has  the 
air  about  him  of  going  about  some  business 
of  great  import,  which  is  not  so,  for  his 
business  always  turns  out  to  be  a  most  tri 
fling  matter.  He  has  an  air  of  secrecy  about 
1 06 


him,  just  as  though  he  were  on  a  real  hunt, 
or  looking  for  the  Mystery  Smell.  I  have 
watched  him,  so  I  know.  The  look  in  his 
eye  makes  you  think  he  could  tell  something 
about  you  if  he  wanted  to ;  but  I  have 
learned  that  he  knows  nothing,  and  has 
nothing  to  tell.  He  never  wags  the  right 
way ;  his  face  smiles  along  with  the  Dream 
Wag,  and  I  have  known  him  to  bark  furi 
ously  with  the  Scratch  Wag  going  hard. 
Now,  that  mixture  is  unendurable,  and  fills 
me  with  much  contempt.  This  dog  has  his 
virtues,  and  is  very  wise,  but  his  conceit 
spoils  him  for  Dogs.  If  you  will  think 
upon  the  matter,  you  will  see  that  he  is  a 
dog  advanced  beyond  a  normal  dog's  under 
standing,  but  he  is  still  a  Dog.  One  reason 
of  his  high  opinion  of  himself  is  that  Men 
clip  off  his  hair,  which  makes  him  ridicu 
lous  to  Us.  Attention  and  clipping  have 
107 


spoiled  him.     He  is  the  kind  of  fellow  that 

rp\  JT 

three  legged      ^   always  want  to  roll  in  the  dust  to  muss 

trot.  him  up. 

Then,  there  is  another  dog  that  bothers 
me,  for  no  other  reason  than  that  he  has  the 
habit  of  constantly  changing  step  with  his 
hind  legs  and  holding  one  foot  off  the  ground. 
Now,  you  may  be  sure  this  dog  is  a  fool  or 
a  very  weak  character ;  for  no  good  dog  does 
that  unless  he  is  very  much  preoccupied  or 
is  absent-minded.  But  if  the  habit  is  upon 
a  dog,  that  is  all  I  want  to  know  of  him. 
He  shall  be  rolled  in  the  dust  so  that  he  will 
forget,  and  use  all  four  legs  for  a  change. 
A  good  quick,  scattering,  mixed-up  roll  it 
shall  be. 

Another  time  I  would  like  to  say  some 
thing   about  the  peculiarities  of  other  dogs 
I  have  associated  with  or  have  come  to  know 
well  by  a  keen   dog's  observation,  but  now 
108 


I  shall  pass  on  to  other  matters,  for  my  mind 

r  t^ 

is  rather  full  of  Cats,  Roosters,  and  Goats. 

A   mystery. 

I  have  always  found  it  hard  to  become 
entirely  reconciled  to  a  Cat, — first,  because 
I  have  never  been  able  to  put  myself  into 
him  and  so  think  and  feel  from  his  point  of 
view.  He  is  to  me  an  unsolved  mystery ; 
either  he  knows  nothing  and  looks  wise,  or 
is  so  wise  that  I  am  a  very  pup  in  under 
standing.  If  he  is  the  first,  he  deserves  to 
be  treed  once  or  twice  a  day ;  if  he 's  the 
latter,  why  I  better  look  out  or  he  will  get 
the  better  of  me  in  some  way.  I  can  hardly 
think  he  is  wonderful,  however,  or  he  would 
get  back  at  me ;  for  surely  I  have  given 
him  cause  enough.  He  seems  to  hold  no 
grudge,  nor  does  he  invite  me  to  love 
him.  Such  furry  indifference  rather  irritates 
me.  He  wags  his  tail  when  he  is  angry, 
which  is  another  strange  thing  about  him. 
109 


I  do  not  know  what  I  should  do  without  the 
Further  words     «"/.,«., 
about  the  Cat     ^at>    or          affords   me  amusement   of  the 

most  pleasing  nature,  and  of  the  best  kind ; 
any  game  I  have  with  him  is  well  mixed  with 
excitement.  I  have  the  greatest  respect  for 
his  claws — there  is  something  so  downright 
and  complete  about  his  scratching.  He  has 
a  wonderful  way  of  getting  all  over  you  at 
once.  Everything  he  does  is  distinctly  Cat ; 
so  you  never  know  what  comes  next.  I 
am  very  glad  he  has  not  discovered  that 
his  steady,  sullen  gaze  and  his  low  growl 
always  make  me  go  about  my  business  ;  for 
if  he  had,  I  should  never  have  the  joy  of  a 
chase  across  the  yard,  or  the  fun  of  watching 
him  get  around  the  corner  of  the  house  in 
his  peculiar  intent  fashion. 

The  Dog  is  born  an  enemy  of  the  Cat, 
and  remains  so  through  the  days  of  his  life. 
I  have  been  trained  to  be  kind  to  those  I 
no 


live  with,  but  it  takes  very  few  "sickums" 

T      -IT         u     When  a11  i 
to   set  me  to  cat-hunting.     1  wish  1  could     sai(j  of-  the 

describe  my  sensations,  when  every  muscle  Cat. 
is  trembling  and  all  senses  acute  at  those 
awfully  intense  moments  when  I  want  to  get 
at  him,  but  do  not  dare.  I  can  assure  you, 
however,  that  it  is  his  mind  and  not  his  claws 
that  squeeze  a  whine  out  of  me.  Surely  at 
these  times  a  cat  has  mind,  or  something, 
I  know  not  what,  which  is  quite  as  good.  I 
might  continue  at  great  length  to  tell  you 
of  all  the  amusement  a  Cat  affords  me,  but 
when  all  was  said,  I  would  know  the  Cat  no 
better,  and  it  would  be  but  a  story  of  my 
own  or  some  other  Dog's  adventures  and 
opinions.  Almost  any  Dog  can  tell  you  as 
much  about  Cats  as  I,  but  it  is  different 
when  it  comes  to  more  important  subjects. 

There  was   a  time  when   I    found    great 
enjoyment  in  the  Goat,  but  he  soon  becomes 
in 


tiresome.     His    face   always    has    the    same 
The  Goat 

soon  fathomed.    smile  UP°n  !t>  and  there   1S  not  much  lastmg 
fun  in  him.     When  you  have  once  learned 

his  ways,  you  soon  lose  interest  in  him.  No 
matter  how  you  change  your  treatment  of 
him,  he  always  meets  you  head  first,  and  he 
never  loses  his  tiresome  smile.  His  eyes 
never  flash,  do  what  you  will.  I  have  wasted 
many  a  morning's  playtime  trying  to  get  our 
goat  to  kick  out  behind,  but  I  never  suc 
ceeded  in  getting  him  worked  up  to  it.  Many 
a  good  rolling  and  side-punching  has  he 
given  me  because  I  tried  to  bring  some 
variety  into  his  life.  So  now  I  do  not  waste 
much  time  on  the  goat,  and  if  ever  I  do,  it  is 
because  I  have  nothing  else  in  sight.  I  hold 
a  theory,  however,  that  if  I  can  ever  take 
the  Goat's  hind  parts  unawares,  I  shall  get 
a  kick  upwards  and  backwards  out  of  him. 
Much  contemplation  of  his  tail  has  inspired 

I  12 


me  with  great  respect  for  that  piece  of  him ; 

L       T  11      •  i»  •  i  Respect 

why,  1  would  give  a  month  s  ratting  to  be      for  a  uil 

able  to  jiggle  my  tail  the  way  he  can  jiggle 
his !  For  the  purpose  of  alertness  and  in 
timidation  you  could  not  find  a  better  one. 
His  tail  has  a  power  of  stiffness  which  makes 
one  almost  forgive  him  for  being  a  Goat, 
and  I  sometimes  wish  I  might  be  one.  If 
I  had  his  tail  alone,  with  my  knowledge  of 
wags,  I  could  accomplish  anything.  Not 
a  dog  within  ten  miles  would  make  the  first 
move  toward  downing  me ;  one  look,  with 
a  goat's  tail  drawn  up  in  goatish  rigidity, 
would  convince  any  stranger  dog  that  I  was 
master. 

The  art  of  reducing  an  enemy  dog  may 
cease  to  interest,  the  French  Poodle  may 
grow  to  be  beneath  contempt,  the  satisfac 
tion  in  rolling  a  three-legged  dog  may  wane, 
the  Cat  may  become  an  uninteresting  friend, 

MJ 


and  the  black  tail  of  a  goat  may  sadden  and 
Go  to  the  & 

Rooster,  thou    not  mspire  you ;  but  for  good  solid,  every- 

sad  one !  day   fun   go  to  a   big  fat   Rooster.     When 

I  am  depressed  I  go  to  the  Rooster ;  if  ever 
I  lose  my  good  opinion  of  myself,  I  go  to 
the  Rooster  and  behold  his  ways.  A  new 
fund  of  good  spirits  I  get  from  him ;  in  him 
I  always  see  an  example  of  self-esteem — 
worthy  of  emulation.  Qualities  important  in 
a  Dog's  character  are  a  capacity  for  deep 
love,  happiness,  keenness,  and  self- esteem; 
if  he  has  not  the  last,  he  will  have  many 
sad  days  —  hence  my  appreciation  of  the 
Rooster.  It  requires  no  great  effort  of  mind 
to  gather  all  of  a  Rooster's  ideas ;  for  he  is 
not  many-sided  or  complex.  My  enjoyment 
of  him  is  much  due  to  his  inviting  simplicity. 
He  is  a  good  lazy  -  day  companion.  A 
Rooster's  life  is  full  of  limitations  ;  but  where 
can  you  find  a  creature  who  uses  to  such 
114 


advantage   the   opportunities  he   has  ?      To 

...        j     •        i  •  i  •  MI  A  lesson  in 

watch    him    during    his    mealtime  will  give    entertainmcnt_ 

a  lesson  in  social  entertainment.  He  can 
make  more  fuss  over  a  grain  of  wheat  than  I 
can  over  a  dish  of  meat,  or  a  Man  at  a  meal 
that  he  eats  with  many  periods  of  waiting. 
When  at  meals  he  seems  to  have  a  very  poor 
appetite  ;  he  does  not  pick  fast  or  in  large 
quantities,  but  centers  his  attention  upon 
one  small  grain.  He  picks  it,  drops  it, 
calling  the  weak-minded,  adoring  hens 
about  him;  who  are  much  flattered  by  his 
courtesy,  and  gather  around  at  his  call ;  then 
he  calmly  eats  the  corn  himself.  This  is  not 
pure  selfishness,  as  one  might  think,  but  he 
believes  in  holding  his  supremacy,  and  has  a 
theory  purely  his  own — that  discipline,  and 
occasional  disappointment  are  good  for  his 
hens.  Sometimes  he  becomes  a  little  too 
absorbed  in  his  own  importance,  and  misses 

"5 


his  pick  ;  so  a  hen  gets  what  he  intended  to 
Discipline,  and 

eat   himself.      That  makes   him   mad  for  a 

moment,  so  he  gives  her  a  dab  in  any  place 
at  all  and  makes  a  circle  in  the  dust  with  his 
right  wing,  turning  stiffly  on  his  left  leg ; 
this  is  merely  to  show  that  she  was  a  stupid 
fool,  and  should  have  merely  looked  at  the 
food  and  admired  his  very  fine  way  of  eating 
it.  If  the  Rooster  is  in  a  particularly  com 
plaisant  frame  of  mind,  he  lets  the  hens  eat 
a  grain  or  two.  The  community  fully  under 
stands,  however,  that  he  has  been  very  gen 
erous,  but  in  no  way  is  resigning  his  rights. 
If  the  Rooster  thinks  the  hens  are  becoming 
too  much  absorbed  in  their  meal,  and  so  lose 
him  from  their  minds,  his  feelings  are  hurt. 
Then  he  goes  to  a  barren  spot  in  the  yard  to 
pick  violently  and  call  loudly,  as  though  he 
had  made  a  wonderful  find  in  a  dusty  spot ; 
strange  as  it  may  seem,  most  of  the  hens  will 
116 


obey  his  summons,  only  to  find  dry  dirt,  and 
...  ,_,  The  purpose 

their  lord.      Then  he  reads  them  a  lecture      c     n       — 

or  a  v^row. 

upon  respect,  with  much  dignity  and  wing- 
scratching.  The  Crows  of  Roosters  are 
crowed  merely  to  tell  the  world  and  hens 
that  the  yard  has  good  pickings,  there  is  a 
dust-hole  round  the  corner  in  the  sun,  and 
that  He  is  the  greatest  thing  living.  A  Crow 
is  very  important  to  a  Rooster  ;  for  it  keeps 
him  from  laying  eggs  and  becoming  hen- 
like  in  other  ways.  Deprive  a  Rooster  of 
it,  and  what  is  left  to  him  ?  Even  the 
hens  bully  him.  He  may  try  again  and 
again  to  regain  his  foothold  in  society,  but 
the  only  result  is  hen-pecking — which  sight 
is  indeed  pathetic. 

I  once  saw  a  Rooster  swollen  with   self- 
esteem   fly  with   difficulty  to   the   top   of  a 
fence.      He  thought  one  moment  with  the 
most    intense    concentration    upon    himself. 
117 


He  took  in  all  the  world  at  a  glance ;  drew 
The  over-ripe 

himself  up  so  1  expected  he  would  tumble 
tomato. 

over  backwards.  He  gathered  his  forces, 
and  with  a  long,  deep  breath  well  inside 
of  him  he  started  his  crow ;  he  got  but  half 
of  it  out — round,  rich,  and  satisfied — when 
there  passed  his  way  the  Boy  with  an  over 
ripe  tomato  in  his  hand.  Over-ripe  tomatoes 
in  the  hands  of  a  boy  have  an  affinity  for 
anything  hard  enough  to  smash  on.  It 
is  not  hard  for  a  Boy  to  decide  what  to 
do  with  a  tomato  too  soft  to  hold.  It  did 
not  take  long  for  the  tomato  to  go  from  the 
Boy  to  the  Rooster,  smashing  when  the  crow 
was  in  progress.  The  "doodle-do"  was  never 
uttered.  The  Boy  rolled  over  with  a  great  joy, 
and  I  chased  the  Rooster,  who  made  for  any 
place  at  all  with  no  purpose  in  view.  When 
a  Rooster  is  scared  and  runs  to  get  anywhere, 
he  always  reminds  me  of  the  crooked  track  a 
118 


man  makes  when  he  chases  his  hat  in  a  great 

O  rfl 

•     i  11  1-1  i      i  * he  crow 

wind  ;  only  the  man  wants  his  hat,  and  the     . 

'  incomplete. 

Rooster  wants  anything  at  all  except  what  he 
has  just  had.  When  he  got  well  away  he 
made  some  scattered,  irrelevant  remarks,  and 
looked  as  though  his  feelings  were  hurt;  but 
I  soon  saw  him  bullying  the  hens  as  if  noth 
ing  had  happened.  His  crow,  however,  was 
never  the  same  again;  it  always  broke  in  the 
middle,  and  ended  in  rather  a  weak  and 
tapering  way,  with  much  uncertainty  of  tone. 
Now,  this  was  not  because  the  Rooster  re 
membered  his  soft-tomato  experience,  but 
because  his  inside  crow-strings  had  become 
tangled.  I  am  ashamed  of  the  Boy,  and 
should  think  he  would  be  full  of  remorse 
when  he  set  his  mind  upon  the  crow  that 
never  was  completed.  It  makes  me  think 
of  ghost?,  and  I  believe  that  amputated  crow 
lurks  around  on  hot  days. 
119 


A  Rooster  goes  through  the  day,  scratch- 
With  no       . 
memory      mg>  Plckmg>  crowing,  and  bossing  hens.    He 

of  abuse,  has  little  to  do  but  eat,  and  would  grow  fat 
and  a  burden  to  himself  if  getting  food  was 
an  easy  task  ;  but  he  has  to  do  a  deal  of 
scratching  for  a  fair  cropful.  The  monotony 
of  his  life  is  varied  by  occasional  excite 
ments  or  fights  and  I  bring  him  some  little 
variety.  He  talks  constantly,  but  mostly 
about  himself  and  his  great  importance.  He 
does  not  amount  to  much,  for  he  cannot 
wag  his  tail.  Everything  that  has  a  tail 
should  learn  how  to  wag.  He  has  love 
for  no  one.  Still  a  Rooster  is  a  very  happy 
person  ;  everything  he  does  he  enjoys  and 
makes  the  most  of,  and  the  only  thing  he 
remembers  is  a  good  beating  given  him  by 
another  Rooster.  I  may  give  him  a  chase 
one  day,  and  when  he  sees  me  the  next  he 
has  forgotten  all  about  it,  and  is  just  as 
1 20 


good   fun  as  if  he  had    never  been  chased 

r  TT      j  The  ruin  of 

before.      He   does    not  even  remember  the 

a  crow. 

Boy  and  the  soft  tomato,  but  mounts  the 
fence  only  to  get  another  tomato  some 
where  on  him.  One  sad  feature  of  this 
tomato  business  is,  that  if  the  Boy  keeps  on 
growing  expert  in  his  shots,  the  Rooster's 
crow  will  not  be  recognized  as  one ;  for 
of  course  the  tomato  does  not  land  upon  him 
exactly  at  the  same  stage  of  crowing,  and  as 
each  cut-off  crow  tends  to  change  the  char 
acter  of  the  total  crow,  the  result  will  be  detri 
mental  to  his  great  accomplishment.  I  wish 
the  Boy  would  tire  of  his  game,  for  a  Rooster 
is  a  poor  thing  without  a  good  crow  ;  only  I 
must  confess  the  game  has  amused  me. 

All  I  have  said  will  show  you  that  I  have 
reason  to  be  amused  by  the  Rooster,  but  I  do 
not  think  I  would  be  one,  even  if  he  could 
use  the  love  wag  or  joy  wag.  Another  time 

121 


I  will  say   more  upon   the  eccentricities  of 

x^  111  J 

Good-bye!      _, 

Roosters,  but   now  1   shall  do  some   secret 

hunting.     Good-bye ! 


122 


THE    HEART    OF  A   BOY. 


LOVE  — TRUE    LOVE. 


CHAPTER   IX.      THE    HEART    OF 
A   BOY. 


IS  flooded  with  sympathy,  and 
the  Heart  of  a  Dog  often  swells  The  Heart 
with  pity,  when  it  sees  the  deep 
grief  of  a  Child.  The  air  all 
about  bears  shadows  upon  it ; 
the  colors  of  the  earth  grow  dim  with  the 
mist  of  tears  because  of  a  child's  tears.  Only 
a  dog  knows  the  bigness  of  little  things  and 
the  littleness  of  great  ones  in  a  child's  mind. 
A  dog  knows  the  fullness  of  his  grief,  the 
keener  in  the  hour's  woe  because  of  the  few 
words  given  to  him  to  use.  He  knows,  too, 
the  heart  full  of  protest,  and  the  mind 
crowded  with  good  reasons  to  prove  the 
right  to  joy.  Like  the  Child,  the  Dog  has 
125 


often  and  often  raised  his  soul  to  speak,  but 
A  speechless 
goul  no  words   came  to  him ;  the  deeper  was  his 

grief,  the  sharper  his  sorrow  and  the  more 
surging  the  blood  about  a  swelling  heart. 

Many  such  hours  came  into  the  Boy's 
life,  before  I  taught  the  People  something 
of  the  Boy's  heart — happiness  and  playtime 
and  good  laughter  I  brought  to  the  Boy,  and 
joy  to  the  People  ;  at  least,  I  told  them  many 
simple  things  which  smoothed  from  their 
faces  some  of  the  lines  of  inner  thinking  and 
knotted  irritation,  and  I  gave  them  the  gift 
of  seeing  great  workings  in  a  young  Boy's 
speechless  soul.  I  taught  them  to  let  their 
stiffened  minds  down  to  the  mind  of  a  Child  ; 
so  I  think  they  too  were  younger  and  more 
ready  to  smile  at  the  little  things  which  when 
gathered  together  during  a  day  make  much 
joy  in  memory. 

Of  those  days  I  will  tell  you.  I  was  but 
126 


a  blundering,  tumbling  pup  when  the  Boy 

Other  people's 
came   to  us.       He  was   brought  to   find   a  Ci1ji(jren 

Home  with  People  who  had  Children  of 
their  own  that  were  grown  up  and  had  gone 
out  into  the  great  world  to  work.  The 
People  were  too  old  to  go  back  and  begin 
again  the  rearing  of  a  young  child.  They 
loved  their  days  of  work,  their  idle  hours  of 
thought,  and  their  care-marred  pleasures ;  so 
Duty  and  the  Boy  gave  many  sighs  to  their 
days.  It  must  not  be  here  thought  that  they 
were  unkind;  that  was  not  so — for  all  was 
done  for  him,  but  as  older  people  do  for 
other  people's  children,  and  in  ways  cold 
and  squarely  cut.  The  young  growing 
one,  unknown  even  to  himself,  was  yearn 
ing  through  those  early  years,  for  love, — 
love,  laughing,  leaping,  tearful,  arm-press 
ing  love,  and  a  kiss  all  unexpected.  He  did 
not  know  how  to  ask  for  love,  or  the  best  way 
127 


to  gain  it.     He  would  not  ask  for  a  kiss  — 
Plans  for  .  . 

Joy-bringing.      h°W  COuld  a  b°y  ?      A  klSS  he  SOt>  but  *  Was 
always  at  the  time  of  bed-going,  when  the 

day  had  ended  unsatisfied.  Years  came  to 
me  and  the  Boy.  With  my  growing  mind 
and  strength,  grew  my  love  for  him — his 
love  for  me  I  knew  filled  him  full.  Play 
times  we  had,  and  secrets.  Joy  and  sorrow 
we  shared.  As  I  grew  older  and  wiser,  I 
came  to  plainly  see  that  a  young  life  was 
being  molded  in  the  wrong  way.  The  mind 
of  the  Boy  was  settling  into  fixed  thinking ; 
now  and  then  at  times  when  he  felt  that  the 
injustice  had  been  too  much  to  endure,  would 
come  wild  weeping  and  fast  words  of  reason 
less  protest,  but  quickly  would  he  sink  into 
himself,  into  silence  and  much  thought. 
Sometimes  he  would  let  out  the  love  of  his 
nature  to  a  woman  of  the  Home,  but  he 
found  no  answer  to  what  was  in  his  heart ; 
128 


so  he  fell  back  again  ashamed —  his  heart  was 

The 
never  the  same  again. 

asparagus 

These  words  tell  little  of  all  I  saw  and  bed. 
noted,  but  I  knew  something  must  be  done 
to  bring  a  fuller  joy  to  the  Boy.  Of  course, 
I  did  everything  for  him  when  we  were 
together,  and  I  knew  I  had  his  best  love, 
but  I  should  some  day  pass  out  of  his  life. 
My  love  was  all  I  had  to  give ;  still,  I  knew 
even  that,  great  as  it  was,  would  not  give  life 
happiness  to  him.  He  should  have  the  love 
of  his  own  kind,  and  my  task  it  was  to  win  it 
for  him. 

One  day  I  had  returned  from  a  journey 
into  a  far  land.  I  was  tired,  dusty,  and  hot. 
I  went  to  the  asparagus  bed,  all  green  and 
fluffy,  full  of  passageways  and  shady  spots,  to 
have  a  good,  flat-sided  sleep.  I  had  barely 
turned  round  twice  before  settling  down, 
when  the  sound  of  sobbing  smote  my  ears. 
129 


I  knew  then  that  I  must  sleep  another  time. 
May  such 

times  not  come    It:  was  the  Boy>  an<^  *  *elt  sorrow  and   tears 
to  Mary.  about   me.     I   shook  myself  till   my  collar 

rattled  and  gathered  new  strength  for  my 
body  out  of  my  heart ;  for  I  was  certain  I 
should  need  it  in  that  hour. 

The  Boy  lay  flat  with  his  face  in  the  grass, 
his  arms  out  beyond  him ;  sob  followed  sob 
with  choking  quickness,  and  his  tears  min 
gled  with  the  earth.  Something  terrible  had 
happened.  I  sat  down  close  by  him,  and 
wagged  my  tail  slowly,  making  no  noise, 
looking  with  love  in  my  eyes  at  his  wet 
cheek.  There  were  times  when  I  might 
have  started  right  in  upon  the  fun  and  frolic 
method,  but  that  day  I  saw  was  a  serious 
time.  In  a  night  he  had  grown  to  a  greater 
power  of  feeling  and  a  fuller  capacity  for 
suffering, —  such  is  the  spreading  of  a  soul. 
I  knew  I  must  be  careful  not  to  shock  him 
130 


into  momentary  hatred  of  me  by  too  quick 

f  AC.  A          u   ri  Maneuvering, 

use  or  joy  and  run  wags,  and  such  like  pre 
liminary  measures.  I  must  have  him  tell 
his  sorrow  first  to  ease  his  heart, — then  for 
the  fun.  So  I  wagged  and  wagged  silently 
and  discreetly,  loving  him  the  while.  Then 
I  squeezed  out  the  tiniest  bit  of  a  whine,  and 
waited, — still  he  sobbed.  I  edged  up  quite 
close  to  his  face,  without  rising  from  my  sit 
ting,  and  whined  again  ;  stopping  my  tail,  I 
waited,  with  my  ears  well  pointed.  I  could 
feel  that  he  felt  the  comfort  of  my  sympathy 
and  understanding,  so  I  went  down  in  front, 
too,  with  my  nose  close  to  his  cheek.  I 
whined  again,  and  waited.  The  sobs  tore 
his  body  less  cruelly.  I  licked  the  tears  and 
streaks  from  his  cheek  very  gently  and  got 
my  tail  started  a  little.  The  Boy  did  not 
thrust  me  away,  and  his  sobs  subsided ;  so  I 
asked  him  to  tell  me  what  the  trouble  was, 


saying,  "Woof!  woof!  "  and  growling  a  little 
Love,  Love  ! 

to  let  him  know  I  was  on  his  side.     I  sat  up 

with  much  dignity.  His  face  came  up  out  of 
the  grass  all  tear-stained,  dirty,  and  swollen. 
He  put  his  arms  about  me,  with  his  cheek 
to  mine,  and  began  to  cry  again,  but  very 
quietly.  I  asked  once  more  of  his  trouble. 
He  told  me  with  bitterness  in  his  boyish 
voice  that  they  were  cruel ;  he  never  could 
do  anything  he  wanted  to  ;  they  were  always 
complaining  ;  they  did  not  understand ;  when 
he  told  them  things  they  always  looked  tired, 
or  made  believe  smile,  and  he  had  no  one  in 
the  whole  world  to  love  him.  (Ah!  /  loved 
the  boy  !  Where  could  he  find  greater  love  ? 
But  he  forgot  mine,  and  yearned  for  theirs.) 
So  with  his  head  close  to  my  heart  he  told 
all  of  his  sorrow.  I  drew  away  from  him 
and  began  to  scratch  violently — much  more 
violently  than  was  necessary — first  one  side, 
132 


and  then  the  other ;  this  was  to  bring  him 
to  think  of  commonplace  things,  and  to  get 
him  out  of  himself.  Then  I  grabbed  his 
coat,  quick  as  a  flash,  and  gave  it  three  quick 
shakes;  this  was  to  make  him  angry  and 
force  him  to  forget  the  People.  The  trick 
worked  and  he  struck  out  at  me,  his  eyes 
ablaze  through  lingering  tears.  I  dodged 
and  lay  low  with  my  front  legs,  telling  him 
to  catch  me  if  he  could;  I  barked  twice  good 
and  hard,  which  irritated  him  a  little ;  this 
too  was  just  what  he  wanted,  for  he  got  up 
and  made  for  me.  Then  was  the  time  for 
ridiculous  wild  running  in  circles  mixed  up, 
all  around  the  flower-beds  and  everywhere, 
with  my  tail  lopping  loosely  behind.  I  would 
stop  once  in  a  while  and  let  him  almost  catch 
me,  and  repeat  the  crooked-running  business. 
Soon  I  got  the  Boy  into  laughter  by  stum 
bling  over  my  front  legs.  The  victory  was 


mine  ;  I  had  driven  grief  away,  but  a  scar  on 
The  People's 
opinion  of  Jay    ^s  heart  was  left.     When  it  was  safe  I  let 

the  Boy  catch  me  and  took  more  mauling 
than  I  should  have  ordinarily.  I  had  some 
fun  myself,  however,  for  I  got  hold  of  a  part 
of  the  Boy's  trousers  and  held  on — which 
is  a  way  I  have.  Then  we  went  to  the  brook 
and  hunted  frogs ;  we  made  new  discoveries, 
to  add  to  our  store  of  secrets. 

Many  and  many  a  time  I  brought  the 
Boy  out  of  grief  as  I  have  told  you,  but 
that  was  not  enough.  I  was  always  consid 
ered  the  Boy's  Dog  and  left  to  go  my  way 
with  little  notice.  They  considered  me  some 
what  of  a  fool,  because  I  had  a  way  of 
wrinkling  my  brows  when  things  interested 
me.  I  had  no  value,  because  my  tail  was 
thick,  with  too  much  hair  on  the  end  of  it ; 
the  abundance  of  hair  was  from  no  fault  of 
mine,  but  had  come  out  thick  and  long 

'34 


because  the  Boy  once  cut  it  all  off  three  or 

r        .    .  TTT1         .  .       ,  The  best 

four  joints  up.      When  it  grew  out  again  the        ^ 

hair  did  not  stop  growing  at  the  right  time. 
I  did  not  tell  the  People  how  this  came  to 
be,  so  they  had  contempt  in  them ;  besides, 
I  was  yellow  and  my  tail  made  a  sharp  turn 
upwards  close  to  the  end  of  it.  Personally 
I  took  great  satisfaction  in  the  turn,  for  it 
added  to  my  dignity  at  times  of  alertness ; 
it  wagged  more  completely  for  love  and  joy  ; 
and  it  did  not  work  at  all  for  a  fear  wag ; 
but  when  it  came  to  take  part  in  a  scatch  wag 
my  soul  was  rilled  with  pride.  In  the  whole 
world  there  was  no  finer  thing.  So  you  will 
see  that  I  was  held  in  no  high  esteem  by  the 
People  ;  I  had  too  few  "points"  as  they  say. 
Being  little  noticed  I  found  my  happiness 
in  the  Boy  and  myself,  and  paid  little  atten 
tion  to  them,  which  seemed  to  me  right  and 
proper  at  the  time. 

135 


As  I  saw  the  people  growing  further  and 

The  Heart  of 

the  Woman  further  away  from  the  Boy,  I  felt  that  some 
thing  must  be  done ;  so  I  thought  it  out, 
and  settled  upon  a  way  to  bring  understand 
ing  about.  Love  and  sympathy,  they  are 
the  quickest  kindled  in  the  heart  of  a  woman ; 
no  matter  how  long  an  expression  of  them 
has  lain  hidden  in  the  wrapping  of  bitterness 
or  disappointment,  both  lie  like  sparks,  ready 
to  brighten  into  lovelight  and  the  sunshine 
of  tenderness.  So  I  saw  I  must  carefully 
appeal  to  the  Woman  in  the  Home.  I 
may  not  here  use  many  words  in  telling  you 
how  I  brought  Love  to  the  People,  but  in  a 
few  minutes  thinking  I  will  tell  of  it. 

So  I  began  with  the  Woman.  I  set 
out  by  showing  joy,  and  did  much  wiggling 
and  twisting  and  jumping  when  she  came 
my  way,  always  being  careful  not  to  jump 
on  her  or  mud  her  up.  Never  did  I 

136 


carry    the    boisterous    behavior    far    enough 

She  had  a 
to  make   her    angry,   and   I   would  stop  at     sorrow>  too 

the  right  time,  just  after  something  I  had 
done  drew  a  smile  from  her.  When  she 
went  walking  around  the  garden  -  paths, 
with  slow  and  feeble  steps,  I  would  follow 
close  at  her  skirts.  I  kept  this  up  until  she 
got  used  to  me  and  expected  me  every  day. 
All  this  was  tame  business  for  me  and  the 
Boy  said  he  hated  me,  but  I  told  him  it  was 
for  his  good  and  to  wait.  Sometimes  I 
would  sit  right  down  before  her  and  look 
into  her  face  and  whine,  or  bang  my  tail 
steadily  on  the  boards.  In  time  I  could 
always  count  upon  a  smile  and  a  feeble 
petting.  When  things  grew  more  familiar 
between  us  I  would  slip  my  chin  upon  her 
knee,  and  look  with  appealing  kindness  into 
her  heart.  One  day  I  did  this  and  she  came 
to  her  knees  and  wrapped  me  around  with 

IJ7 


her  arms.     I  felt  her  tears  about  my  eyes.    I 

bal  ncc  saw  t^len  t^iat  s^e  had  grief  in  her  too,  and 

it  would  be  good  for  the  Boy  and  all  of  us 
to  know  her  better.  From  that  day  I  loved 
her,  and  she  loved  me  more  and  more ;  this 
I  knew,  for  who  knows  love  sooner  than  a 
dog? 

Then  I  brought  the  Boy  and  Woman  to 
each  other.  I  would  take  her  to  where  the 
Boy  was,  building,  playing,  or  dreaming,  and 
I  would  pounce  on  him  and  roll  him  over,  and 
scatter  around.  Then  he  would  hurl  things 
at  me.  She  stopped  him,  and  petted  me 
to  make  me  feel  happy  again — and  I  was 
ashamed  to  have  deceived  her.  At  first  this 
excited  jealousy  in  the  Boy,  and  at  one  time 
I  almost  felt  his  love  for  me  was  waning,  but 
he  could  not  get  along  without  me  ;  my  love 
for  him  grew  deeper  and  more  tender,  and 
this  he  knew.  She  loved  me  and  so  did  He ; 

138 


this  fact  grew  into  his  mind  and  spread  over 

,  -      ,  ,.  .  .  Waiting. 

his    heart.     1    could    see    his    sensitive    but 

loving  nature  coming  closer  to  her  day  by 
day  without  his  knowing  it,  but  should  I 
have  told  him  that  I  saw  what  I  did,  fierce 
would  have  been  his  denial.  With  Her, 
tenderness  grew,  and  she  waited.  I  was 
glad,  and  wagged  the  slow  and  sure  wag 
of  settled  affection  when  I  was  with  them. 
One  day  we  were  under  the  trees ;  all 
the  World  was  kind  and  soft.  Gentle  blue 
veiled  everything,  dreams  floated  about  us 
and  in  the  hedges.  The  Boy  and  the 
Woman  and  I  were  there.  He  seemed  to 
have  no  fixed  purpose  in  his  mind,  and  his 
eyes  looked  beyond  the  world,  full  of  yearn 
ing,  but  I  knew  he  shaped  no  words  to 
speak  of  what  he  longed  for.  She  sat  look 
ing  much  as  did  the  Boy,  only  a  settled 
sorrow  clouded  her  face.  I  was  happy,  for 

139 


I    knew   those    two   yearned    for    the    same 
Joy, joy 
this  day          thing,  Love.     The  Day  and  I  would  bring 

it  to  them.  I  trembled  in  my  sides  with 
excited  hope  and  expectation.  The  woman 
rose  and  went  to  the  Boy  and  kissed  his 
cheek,  kneeling  by  him.  It  was  the  unex 
pected  kiss.  He  dropped  his  wondering 
little  head  upon  her  knees,  and  his  tears 
stained  her  gown,  his  arms  drew  her  closer 
and  closer  to  him.  Soon  he  looked  up  at 
her  with  something  shining  out  of  his  eyes 
I  had  never  seen  there  before.  My  happi 
ness  had  a  touch  of  sorrow — would  he  be 
my  Boy  again  ?  Those  two  hearts  came 
together,  but  no  word  came  to  me,  the  Dog 
who  had  brought  love  to  both.  I  will  not 
tell  all  that  came  about  in  the  Home,  after 
this,  or  how  I  helped  with  the  Woman  to 
bring  the  People  to  know  the  Heart  of  the 
Boy.  A  year  had  not  passed  away  before 
140 


I   heard  his  laughter  mixed  with  the  sober 

Good-bye! 
noise  of  older  ones.       Stories  they  told  to 

suit  his  young  mind.  Love  and  Sympathy 
filled  the  Home.  The  faces  of  the  grown 
ones  became  softer  to  look  at,  and  the  Boy 
grew  and  grew  in  that  place  where  Love 
abided. 

This  is  all  I  will  say  of  how  I   brought 
happiness  to  the  Heart  of  the  Boy. 


Good-bye,  young  heart!  When  Joy  fills 
the  hours  of  the  Day,  when  endless  plans 
for  new  games  crowd  far  beyond  the  hidden 
Sun,  when  dreams  and  wonders  whirl  around 
you,  all  to  be  seized  and  made  true,  —  I 
understand  and  love  you.  When  hot  and 
sickening  disappointment  comes,  when  your 
heart  surges  with  unformed  words  of  protest 
141 


and  revolt,  when  a  great  cloud  of  nameless 

Good-bye!  . 

longing   wraps    you    up, —  1    understand,    1 

sympathize,  I  love  you.     Good-bye  ! 

JAY  (a  Dog). 


,4a 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  LOS  ANGELES 

THE  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below 


PS 

5537   She par d  - 
S538o  Observations 
of  Jay  (a 

do-;) 


PS 

3537 

S538o 


